Cornered

Show Biz

Credit for this story goes to sylviannebecker

Picture this.

You're walking down the street on this bone chilling winter night. The walls of the alley around you rocket into the sky, so high and dark, you can hardly tell the difference between the star-less, pitch black sky, and the ebony stone walls. You creep down the alleyway, knowing you're alone, but not wanting to disrupt the seemingly frozen world around you.
Suddenly, you're not so sure that you are alone. You turn your head slowly over your left shoulder, and see a dark figure following behind you like a twisted shadow. You pick your feet up faster keeping your head forward. You turn down alley after alley in the vast city, and you find yourself trapped. A fence is guarding the way and there is no realistic way over. You see that the faceless person is within swinging distance and you remember.
     "The Pepper Sprayer 5000! Small enough to pack away in a pocket, but that doesn't mean it can't pack a punch! This nifty little thingamajig is a special offer—only $3.97 a piece! And if you're feeling extra cautious—$5.00 for a two pack. Come on down to your neighborhood drug store to get the Pepper Sprayer 5000!"
     "Cut!"
    The bell that Oliver Thomas knew well rang out through the set. He sighed. I can't believe I'm stuck here making lame commercials for rip off products. I wish I was anywhere else right now.
"Okay, everybody—that was good—now let's shoot that all about ten more times!" Oliver yelled over the studio. The film crew scrambled around listening to their director's orders, but not as energetic as they had been at 8:00 this morning when they had started. It was now 7:45.
"Hey! Mr. Thomas! I think we're done for the day, can I just head home?" William Frank walked over to Oliver—visually upset. The young actor was new to the show biz, and often tired easily.
"Mr. Frank—we have to finish shooting this ad, we were supposed to be done today." Oliver was impatient himself, and not in the mood to deal with the hot headed kid.
"What do you mean? That was flawless! Flawless I tell you! I'm done with this—there's no real action here and I have so much more potential than this!" William made a pouty face that didn't go well with his manly features. His dark hair wisped around his perfect and chiseled face. A face that was made for acting. But Oliver was done with this.
"Okay—we are going to shoot this five more times, and if that's not good for you then you're fired." That shut him up.
Oliver sighed and leaned back in his seat. "Aaaand—action!"

Oliver pushed the double doors of the studio open and took a deep breath. The air was crisp and was sharp and cold in his lungs. It would be a cold walk home.
Oliver was a struggling director, and he had no car. He walked two miles to and from work every day. He had gotten used to it though.
As he shuffled down the road, he thought about what he was going to do if William actually quit. He could be out of a job. Then what would he do?Oliver looked up into the dark,
star-less sky.
     He kept walking and got to his least favorite part of the commute. The walls were stark white, and very plain. The alleyways he passed were dark and gloomy, and he could swear he thought he heard whispering. But then, he really did hear something. Footsteps.
    Usually at this time of night, human activity was scarce. But when Oliver turned his head slightly over his shoulder, he saw someone following him. They were dressed in dark clothing, and they had long, slender arms.
    The hair on Oliver's neck stood straight up and he felt himself get goosebumps. But these particular goosebumps weren't from the cold.
    He picked up his pace and he could hear the footsteps quickening with him. He tried his best to look calm and collected, but his eyes flickered from left to right, desperately looking for another person. But he found none.
    Although all his senses told him not to, he turned down an alley, out of options.
    And that's when his heart caught in his throat.
    The alley was blocked. There was a fence that far exceeded Oliver's ability to jump. As he whirled around, the figure was close now, and Oliver didn't know what to do. His breath quickened and he backed up into the corner. And he had one. Last. Thought.

    Why don't I have the Pepper Sprayer 5000?