My feet hit the deserted sidewalk; I looked around and couldn't see Peter, the chill in the air sent shivers down my spine. Down the road I saw Peter's black Mazda standing alone minus its driver. Knowing Peter was there I felt a re-assurance that comforted me.
I started walking towards the looming building. The dusk made its shadows look menacing. Shrugging the senseless fear I started towards the building. The front of the building didn't seem to have a door but as I peered down the side I could see a path that stopped at the centre of the building.
I followed the small, broken concrete path and walked towards the ally way. I paused as if something was telling me to turn around. As I paused I heard a noise, two. It sounded as if they were having an argument. As I listened harder I recognised one of the voices. Peter, I knew he wouldn't have left me. My pace quickened and I reached the door. The voices were so loud; it was excruciating to listen to.
Just like the dilapidated building the door looked as uninviting. I pushed it open with a creaking sound, as if complaining against the human presence. I walked in and the stale air hit me.
"Peter?" I gasped for breath.
The stench hit me so hard I could taste it. It was like eating month old, rotting meat. How could I not have smelt it outside? As I realised my surroundings I noticed that the voices had stopped. That no one was talking.
I looked down and there was a wet trail leading from the doorway to the centre of the room. I slowly followed the trail with my eyes and saw a small, black package on the ground. I started to walk towards it when the door slammed shut.
I froze. I slowly turned around and looked back at the door. No one was there. I tried to convince myself it was the wind, but the weather forecast earlier hadn't said anything about wind.
I continued back to the package and realised it was a wallet. I bent down and picked it up. I opened it: Peter Ravel, Bordeaux France. Why is Peter's wallet here? Why would he leave it?
Someone started laughing, a sick, spine tingling laugh.
I closed my eyes and slowly turned until I was facing the same direction as the noise. I slowly opened my eyes and there He was. He came from a nightmare. He had too, He couldn't be real. He had large black shoes, bulky, polka- dotted pants and a puffy white shirt. He was ghostly pale as if He'd had all the life drained from his body.
His mouth was enlarged with great hideous, red scars running up and down His chalky face. His eyes were wild with torture clearly his intention. He slowly raised His hand, waved and smiled.
His smile was hideous. His teeth were all razor sharp points, which were slowly decaying. His ghastly smile was dripping with the same substance that the trail was made of. I felt my stomach cramp and I dropped Peter's wallet.
I closed my eyes and pinched myself. This is all a dream; I'll wake up in a minute. I opened my eyes and He was gone.
I slowly headed towards the door. As I reached it the floor board under my foot squeaked. I shiver ran up my spine and I looked behind me. No one was there. I twisted the door knob and pushed. It wouldn't open. I pulled the door, still it wouldn't open. How am I going to get out, I need to get out.
I started banging on the door but realised it wouldn't help. No one was going to help me. I slowly turned around and leaned against the door. What am I going to do?
What if He came back? Where would I go? There was a staircase that led to an upstairs loft area. I looked closer to the staircase and there was a small cupboard underneath.
I walked closer to the small broom closet and slowly opened the door. I peered inside and there was nothing in there. The room was relatively clean compared to the rest of the house. I walked inside and closed the door. I took off my shoes and jammed them under the door...
I don't know how long I was in there for, but I slowly realised how alone I was. I now knew that no one was looking for me and that no one, apart from Peter knew where I was. But I didn't even know where Peter was.
I heard a door open. It was the front door. There was a heavy creaking, as if the intruder didn't care if He was heard. I just knew it was Him, even before His laughing.
I didn't know what I was expecting but His voice wasn't it. His voice was a rasp. He started talking to me.
"I know where you are. Can't you hear me?"
His footsteps gradually grew slower until he paused outside the door.
I cowered in the corner of the closet as the door knob turned.
My shoes did nothing. He'd found me.
