Window

This is a lot grimmer than I was expecting it to be! Must be the murder mystery...
 
It's dark. Too dark. No light outside, no light in. I can't see anything, but I know I'm running out of time. No one outside to help me, no one in.


Click.


Click.


Click.


He's getting closer. He hits the crumbling walls as he goes, with that awful left hand of his, looking for me, trying to scare me into giving myself away. He doesn't call out to me or say anything. Just...


Click.


Click.


Click.


I can hear it more clearly with every passing second. I know he's only a few hundred feet away at most. I can't hide in here anymore. He knows I'm in here somewhere. It's too late to turn back. He's coming for me.


Click.


Click.


Click.


My hands are shaking. I feel like I could throw up. I can barely think straight but I know what I have to do now. There's only one way out. I have to reach the window, high up on the far wall, before he finds me.


Click.


Click.


Click.


The sun was still setting when I lost him in the woods, and then suddenly it was dark, all at once, inescapably. I wish I could see, but I don't dare turn on my flashlight. He'll only find me sooner.


Click.


Click.


Click.


I've been in here long enough to know the dimensions of the room pretty well but I'll have to guess where the window is, guess where the jagged glass juts out, waiting to slice through my skin.


Click.


Click.


Click.


It's now or never. I can still see his left hand in my mind's eye, ancient rusted metal fused with wrinkled grey flesh. I can see his low slung jaw, his empty eyes, his slack, ghoulish skin.


Click.


Click.


Click.


It's about ten or fifteen paces across the room. I pray I don't run straight into the wall and knock myself out. I pray I get the right wall.


Click.


Click.


Click.


I can see it. I'm going to make it. I'm almost there. I make a grab for the window frame. I'm free. But I slip. My hand closes around the broken window pane instead. I can feel the blood running down my arm. I want to scream, but I can't. I lunge forward, force myself through the opening, feel the ridges of glass scraping every inch of exposed flesh. I land, hard on the cold ground outside. I get to my feet, stagger forward, try to run.


Click.


Click. 


Click.