The Longest Night

Chapter 6

I try to get myself back up together but the pins pierce deeper into my flesh like blade slits through paper, smooth yet sharp; with every movement I make. I sit back as I look at my blood-drenched hands shaking from the pain. The blood upon my hands is a clear bright red visible through timid thunder flashes, the kind of hue that brings the poppy to the dreaming brain, ever spinning behind the eyes. It drips down on the floor, drop after drop as if it's the most normal thing in the world. I look down just to see blood spots making their way on my shirt increasing in size like ink on paper, bright red quickly turning dark then taking on a brownish hue.

I clench my jaw trying my best not to make any noise as I try to take a pin out of my hands. But as soon as I do pain knocks on the door and walks right in. It feels as if it blew a hole in my heart with an ice-cold magnum. I groan loudly "fuck" biting my lips as hard as I can, salivating too much. I slowly take each pin out giving my blood more space to flow out freely.

I glance in the room where I left his body lying. He wasn't there anymore; the room was empty. It didn't take long for me to make ends meet.

"Fucking coward" I mumble under my breath. If he thinks these small useless tricks would help him take me down, then he got it all wrong.

I gather up the strength to get back on my feet and walk out. This time more cautiously. I spin around on my heels casting wild eyes to the horizon. Empty. Where is he hiding? I pulled out the knife regardless, I was taken by surprise once and I didn't like it, not anymore.

My eyes fall on the exit door which now had red lasers covering it. He blocked the exit. What is on his mind? what is he thinking?

A small faint laugh catches my attention from across the room as if he was able to read my thoughts. I quickly take cover behind the wall as I take some time to settle first and then peek.

A normal person in his place would hand me over to the police or maybe he already did call the cops and he's trying to buy time by doing all this. But how is he so calm? either he has a full-proof plan or he is just too careless to pay any mind or take things seriously.

I walk to the combined room slowly and cautiously with my back against the wall. I twist the knob as softly I can. I enter and lock the door behind me.

It's the bathroom. I might find something here.

First I look for some Band-Aids. Not able to find any I walk over to the sink and look at my blood-covered hands. I should probably clean them.

As soon as the water hits my hand the pain relishes itself like a rubber band relived from tension piercing my insides like shards of glass. I groan in pain as the water slowly washes away the blood. I take off my blood-stained shirt to look at the condition under it.

Damn! It looks so bad. A person with Trypophobia would faint right now. A slow but clear sound of footsteps stops me midway. I turn my horrified gaze towards the door as my breath gets stuck in my throat as if that could be heard. I quickly put on my shirt back and gulp hard before walking towards the door.

My heart is hammering inside my chest as it belongs to a rabbit running for its skin. I lean my ears close to the door trying to figure out what's going on outside. The footsteps suddenly come to stop and I freeze to the ground. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. The hairs on my arms stand to attention as a militia of chills march down my spine.

I lean forward and place my ears against the door to listen clearly and figure out what is happening outside. The echoing footsteps that I heard before suddenly come to stop as if the door was transparent, showing my every moment through it.

The doorknob starts to twist as an exclamation point to the loss of self-control, loud and impatient. Almost so forceful like it's with a motive to break it. My brain stutters for a moment and my eyes take in more light than I expected, every part of me goes on pause while my thoughts catch up.

TO BE CONTINUED...