Survival

The door slams shut and you take a deep, sharp breath. The man had taken no notice of you; he hadn’t even looked at you. Maybe, just maybe, there was a slight chance.

A chance for your survival.

0Likes
0Comments
319Views

1. SURIVAL

You open your eyes; the sound of dripping water fills your ears. The smell of putrid flesh invades your nostrils and you gag. Fear overwhelms you. All is dark. The sound of dripping water matches the beating of your heart. Loud, thumping, echoing throughout the room. There is a trickle of light coming from underneath the door at the far end of the room. You can feel the blood rushing to your head. You swing slightly, the ropes tying your feet together cutting into your bare skin. The voice in your head gets louder, filling your mind with the different ways you’re going to die. The door swings open, the shining yellow light blinding you. It wasn’t water splashing onto the floor that was making that sound, it was blood, blood trickling from the neck of the body to your right, a large pool forming beneath it. You hold back a scream. It would do no good to scream.

Screaming won’t save you.

A man dressed in filthy, matted clothes walks up to the body and cuts it down, blood splashing everywhere, his clothes, his hair, your face. He drops the knife to the floor, dragging the body across the floor and into the room with the blinding light. The door slams shut and you take a deep, sharp breath. The man had taken no notice of you; he hadn’t even looked at you. Maybe, just maybe, there was a slight chance. A chance you could escape. You hear the deafening roar of spinning metal, then the nauseating mix of metal on flesh.

It’s now or never, you think as tears sting your eyes. Your hands are trembling. You shift all your weight forwards, swinging. You outstretch your arms, hands flailing for the knife. The sound of bone snapping beneath the chainsaw urges you to move faster. Blood splatters against the walls, or so you presume, the sound makes your stomach churn. Faster, faster, you swing, your fingers barely brushing the tip of the knife. After one final, hard push, your fingers curl around the knife handle and you rapidly hack at the ropes hanging you from the ceiling.

You fall to the ground with a loud crash. You scramble to your feet. The chainsaw has stopped and so has your heart. You hold your breath, praying that he doesn’t come back through that door. You quietly make your way to the back of the room, searching for a way out. The chainsaw starts up again and it makes you jump, causing you fall over and land on your side. You feel your hair sticking to your face, and you refuse to think about what you’ve fallen into. You notice a large metallic door, dead-bolted at the top. You hurry over; undo the dead-bolt, which creaks loudly as you slide it across. The door whines as you push it open, and forgetting all else, forgetting to be quiet, to be stealthy, you pelt out of the door and down the grimy corridor.

Praying for your survival. 

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...