Chasing Death (TMI FanFiction) // UNEDITED

Chapter Nineteen

Beth ran her hands along the floor as she tried to determine her surroundings. For most people, they would have just looked at a street sign or a landmark in an attempt to find out their location, but those people are smart-asses and probably wouldn't be able to cope if they found themselves in a pitch dark location with no markers whatsoever. And that is where Beth found herself. There was no way to know where she was as it was way too dark, she couldn't even see her own hand in front of her face. So, to try and find out where she was, she ran her hands along the floor to try and see if that gave anything away, unfortunately, it didn't. The only thing Beth managed to pick up from the stroking the ground was that it was cold. And hard. Like rock.

"Great, the ground is made of rock, that's not helpful!" She muttered to herself, slamming her hand down on the ground and then clutching it to her chest as the pain spread through her palm and up her fingers. After a few minutes, the pain dispersed and Beth decided it was time to stand up and try to walk around her surroundings or stumble. Rolling onto her front, she pushed herself up into a plan and then walked backwards until she was standing upright. Brushing herself off, Beth made her first few steps away and almost fell onto her face. She had trouble walking in the light, let alone in the dark.

Despite the first, almost disaster, Beth continued to make more small, shuffling steps with her hands out in front of her in an attempt to find a wall or something she could lean on. But after a while, she discovered that there were no walls, or anything to lean on and if there were, then she was in a very big, empty room. What seemed odd about this ginormous size room, wasn't the size of it, oh no, but the fact that there was no furniture whatsoever. This seemed strange to Beth as she ha never been a room with no furniture or carpet, it was as if it wasn't a room or at least a normal room. The only type of room that would be bare and have a rock floor was a prison cell. "This is not a prison cell," Beth muttered, but it was the only theory she had.

With nothing more to do, Beth continued her little roam around the room with her arms outstretched in front of her just in case she were to hit a wall. If there was one thing she didn't want to happen, it was to face plant a wall. Having done that before in the past, it was not something she wished to relive whilst in a pitch black room with no one around her. No matter how much she walked, Beth was unable to find at least one wall to lean against and eventually gave up. She dropped her hands to her sides and slid down onto her knees and eventually onto her stomach where she lay on the floor. Her hair covered her face and her eyes were shut which made no difference to what she could and couldn't see.

Beth didn't know how long she lay there because she had no watch nor any way to tell the time. It felt like hours, but for all she knew, it had only been a matter of minutes. Feeling boredom creep in, she began to tap the tips of her fingers onto the room and listened to the sound echoing around the room. She thought this echoing was odd as her own voice hadn't echoed, but her tapping had despite the tapping being quieter than her voice. "Stop that infernal racket!" A voice boomed. It echoed off the walls and finally came to a stop a few seconds after.

"Great, now I'm hearing things," Beth said into the ground. She pushed herself up quickly and looked around the room, but it was no different. It was still pitch black and she still couldn't see anything or anyone.

"You're not hearing things you idiotic child! You're hearing my voice and not a voice in your head, well sort of," the same voice said again. It was softer than last time, but still had a strange harshness to it that she couldn't explain.

"I have to be hearing this. I can't see you. In fact, I can't see anything. I believe that I have just lost my marbles after being enclosed in such a small space for so long, especially on my own," Beth stated, folding her arms over her chest and pouting like a little four-year-old who had been refused pudding.