Duplicity | l.s

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The minute our eyes met, I gasped in horror.  

My legs started working before my mind because all the sudden I was sprinting away in fear. My limbs felt tingly and my heart was racing so fast it was actually hurting me. I wasn't even breathing as I running so fast away from him and what I just witnessed. 

 I didn't know where to go, what to do. All I knew was when I heard his sauntering footsteps somewhere in my trail—pure panic started drowning me out. The strap of my camera was burning around the back of my sweaty neck, the base of the device knocking against my stomach as I ran through this backstage venue with no direction of how to get out. I was hoping to see another person, anyone to run to for safety. He saw me see what he and the other band members just did, and now I had no clue what he was going to do to me now that I know. 

 I think he was going to kill me.  

I could hear my rapid heartbeat mixing with the chilling echo of his heavy footsteps getting closer to me. He didn't yell my name or indicate any verbal signal to get me to stop my flee—he was silently just following me. 

 It didn't sound like he was running, it sounded like he was walking. I was sprinting as fast as I could with no sense of direction yet his calm footsteps never left my eardrums, the fact he was taking his time made this all so much worse. My terrors of starring in a horror movie were coming true, and I by the way it was going I had a strong feeling I was at the end of my storyline. 

 He was close. 

 My foggy mind turns me down a long hallway, seeing a pair of black steel double doors with a red exit sign glowing my freedom above it. My unstable legs carry me as fast as they could towards those doors that would exit this building and hopefully to the public world. My throat was hitched from my staggering breath while my blood was pumping so fast I felt as if I could faint. I lost all feeling in my hands, they were ice cold but sweating at the same time. 

 I was so close to the door but he was so much closer to me and I could feel it. Once he turned down this hallway, his footsteps picked up because he knew I was close to the exit. I wanted to scream for help like they taught you in school, but no one ever prepared you for the fact that pure terror might make you paralyzed to the use of your voice. 

 I crash my body into the impenetrable steel door, harder than I expected. The footsteps got faster, heavier, and closer.  

Right as my shaky hand reached the cold silver handle of the heavy door, I pulled it open only just ajar enough for a breeze until a large hand from behind me came around to slam against the surface.

 I yelped as the door slammed shut, the hand next to my head covered in rings, ink and blood. My body was a shaky mess as I was trapped between the door and his body behind me that I refused to turn around and look at. He wasn't touching me in anyway, but I could feel how close he was. 

 He caught me.  

I shook with my forehead against the cold door, his body heat radiating near my back as I was terrified of what he was going to do. I couldn't even think straight I was so scared. 

 He didn't say a word, just silence mixing with my stammering torrid breath I was exuding out of total fear. Pushing myself as close to the wall as I could, I wanted to be as far from him as possible. My forehead was pressing to the hard door and my eyes were wiring shut from the terror. The thoughts that were eradicating my clouded mind were nothing but pure misery and fear. My camera was digging painfully into my stomach because I was so attached to the door, just to keep a space from his chest behind me.  

Why wasn't he saying anything? 

 His crimson hand was still pressed to the door next to my head, I could sense it even with my eyes shut. His body still wasn't touching mine whatsoever, but that almost made me more on edge. I knew he was in close proximity, just staring down at the back of my head probably. I was clueless of what he was going to do, I felt like he was going to kill me. 

 But when I focus really carefully, I could hear and feel him breathe. 

 It was slow and almost silent deep breaths, sounding through his nose. His breath was crashing against the top back of my head. I kept my eyes pinched shut in utter trauma flooding my lungs like boiling water. My body was broken out in sweat, I was helpless. I don't know why he wasn't saying anything, maybe he was trying to decide what to do with me now that he knows I know what he did. 

 "It seems we have a real problem now, don't we?"