Turning tables

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Brian ran.

He didn't know where he was exactly, but that didn't matter. He just needed to find a door, an exit. An escape out of this.

Chasing Brian through the darkness of his college was a man, a masked one. He just suddenly appeared in the doorway when Brian wanted to leave the school after his club. Freaked out by the man from his dreams, his nightmares, Brian ran the second he saw and recognized him.

The other man didn't follow him, though. Not exactly.

He made Brian run.

Appearing in every doorway Brian might escape through, the masked man kept Brian trapped inside the building, making him feel claustrophobic and like having a panic attack. If he enjoyed watching Brian suffer?

He slipped again. It was now the fifth time that Brian hit his and he was beginning to feel dizzy. Maybe a concussion or something. He couldn't think right anymore.

That was when he saw another door. Using the last bits of his power Brian sprinted towards it, running against it when he reached it. He fumbled with the knob, but the black dots messing with his view didn't make it easy at all. However, when he finally managed to open the heavy door he jumped back a bit. There he stood again, the man, tilting his head in a mocking way. Only seconds after the door was closed again.

Crying out in distress, Brian leaned against the door, sliding down to his knees. He hid his face in his hands, starting to cry. This was getting to much for him, especially when he did get a panic attack.

Brian began to scream, sobbing so many, in his tears drowned, "Help!"'s, he started to scratch at the door, bang his head against it, pull at his hair..

Until he passed out as a sobbing, broken mess, having several self-conflicted wounds.

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