DEATH PACT || MARKYONG [#1]

Trapped

Mark turned to Lucas with wide eyes. The latter's mouth hung open and a sigh escaped from his partially parted lips.

"Shit," he muttered, walking forward.

He pushed on the wooden board and pushed, leaning all of his weight on it, but it would not budge. Feeling defeated, he punched it and sank down to his knees.

"We're stuck in here," said Lucas from the ground, "who the hell put the board up?"

"It won't have been Jungwoo or Doyoung, they wouldn't have done that, and they were too busy running."

"It must've been whoever ran past us earlier. That bastard trapped us in here."

In frustration, Mark kicked a broken piece of brick from the floor. He frowned and muttered curses under his breath. He could tell Lucas was hiding his fear through anger, but as much as the younger wanted to break down and cry right there, his pride wasn't having it. If it hadn't been for the corpse or the noises, he wouldn't have been too worried. But the thought of being attacked in his sleep was not settling well, naturally. The eerie environment was making a constant cold chill run through his body. Every second that they stood in silence, he grew more and more tense. Each second felt like they were far longer than they were in reality. It was as though when they stepped into the asylum, time slowed around them, creating an ever-growing feeling of eternity. It was a mistake if they'd ever made one. They knew the stories. They'd heard them spoken over and over, as though they were ancient tales everybody and their grandparents knew. In reality, it was far more recent than everybody imagined. The youth were too young when it all began to understand.

"What if everybody assumes we're dead and we're stuck in here forever?" asked Mark, barely stopping to breathe as he talked.

"Mark, " said Lucas sternly, "please don't make me feel worse than I already do."

"What should we do?"

"Check any other entrances around here. If we're lucky, there might be a board loose."

One by one pushing on the wooden boards covering the windows, the same whistling caught Mark's attention and he paused, looking down the hallway. The sound of a door slamming echoed throughout the building, followed by chains being dragged against the cold, stone floor. Lucas grabbed the younger's arm and pulled him so they were covered by the wall, and they peeked down the hallway. Mark didn't even want to imagine why there was somebody stalking the halls with chains. It was almost as though he could hear his heartbeat as it raced. The whistle was haunting; a slow, yet unsteady tune which made the teens' blood run cold.

Watching quietly, they saw a light flicker around a distant corner. Faintly for a moment, the shadow of a person appeared on the wall. Mark's breath hitched and his muscles tensed. Behind him, Lucas responded in a similar way—terror flooding through his body. The elder was almost sure it was haunted. Or perhaps somebody was pranking them. It felt surreal, the air was cold around them, their breath clouding in the air as they scanned their surroundings with the flashlight. The whistling continued.

"Abandon mission. Let's go to that room and call Doyoung."

The elder slowly edged down the hallway, carefully stepping and observing the wall in front of him. He stayed close to the wall and made a conscious decision to avoid any excessive steps over the body, securing his foot beside the head and shifting his weight until he had passed that obstacle. The creeping was daunting, adding to their fear. Every hair on the younger's body was raised. His teeth were almost chattering, half from the cold and half from the inevitable terror which drowned out every other emotion he could've possibly felt in that moment.