Killing Intent

Once upon a time...

The catwalk creaked below Sam's carefully placed footstep, the twelve-foot sections of steel grate and handrails shaking ominously. Large chunks of chalky-white rock crumbling off of the support structure and onto the mangled vehicle below, making all of Sam's choices a gamble. She hesitated, peering down past her feet through the slatted surface, fully expecting to have been heard.

Gloom smothered the floor below her. A sickly late-afternoon sun pierced through the filthy glass of the building's skylight, a single, sad ray to be swallowed by the shadows. Droppings, dust, and grime had accumulated over the window, and the light that came through was next to useless. Seeing and hearing nothing, she kept moving, mindlessly tucking a rogue strand of silky blond hair back behind her ear.

The metal pathway snaked along the walls of the building, doors placed here and there along its length, leading into offices and smaller storage rooms. Sam ducked into them one by one, easing the doors open carefully and searching the contents of the room. Personal fridges, cabinets, desk drawers, and closets were all rummaged in, anything of value tucked away into a black backpack quickly before quietly moving on. Sam moved efficiently through the entire right wing of the building, picking everything clean before ducking into another room to check the contents of her bag. It was depressingly empty, the few items nestled in its depths non-essential. A small sigh escaped her lips, the light whisper curling out into the rancid air around her.

A slight scuff on the walk made Sam freeze. A sliver of a shadow slid over the doorway, and Sam tucked herself deeper into the darkness, pressing her back against a large office desk. Seconds passed, and Sam's breathing sped up, becoming ragged as fear wrapped a silvery talon around her heart. Slowly, painfully slowly, she slid her hand to her hip, nervously fingering the grip of the wicked knife perched there. Minutes, hours passed in Sam's frightened mind as she strained her ears for a slight sound, a little bump to send her flying, but nothing came. Moving carefully, she peeked around the corner of the desk, unsure of what she wanted to see.

The seething darkness of the room greeted her green eyes, the oppressing weight of the void around her claustrophobic. Cobwebs and mold mingled with the humid air, creating a thick concoction that constricted Sam's lungs. She could make out a table, some chairs scattered about the floor, another door off into a different room, something over there . . . a silhouette in the doorway. Sam froze again, this time drawing the knife from its sheath. The raspy ring of the blade coming loose ignited her confidence, and the suffocating fear dissipated. The dark shape shuffled deeper into the room, head turned upwards as if sniffing the air, body swaying to some silent, haunting melody. As it delved deeper towards Sam, the smell of sun-baked carrion became obvious, making her wrinkle her nose.

Reaching out with her right hand, eyes never leaving the shambling figure, Sam hooked her fingers around the strap of her bag. She shifted slightly, bringing her lithe frame around so that her muscles coiled briefly before exploding into movement, her arm bringing the backpack around behind her and over her shoulder as she charged for the door. The knife hung ready in her free hand, its polished surface glinting off malignant eyes before splattering violently through the thing's forehead. Sam didn't hesitate as she ripped the blade free, a viscous grey liquid spurting out of the space it had just vacated. The corpse sagged, thudding against the ground with a wet slap, and Sam took off, all semblance of caution gone.

She was barely out of the room when a mind-rending scream burst through the darkness, splitting the open space and echoing maddeningly. Sam's ears exploded with pain, dropping her to her knees, the knife skittering out of her grasp. Through the ringing in her ears, she heard a multitude of thuds followed by a chorus of throaty roars, the overwhelming sounds shaking her to her core. Dragging herself from the cold, metallic surface of the catwalk, she took off, staggering as the platform swayed beneath her gaze. A hot trickle ran across the chiseled angle of her chin and down her neck. Ahead of her, the metal railing curled left, leading down the stairs to the exit. Panting, one hand held to her bleeding ear, the other clutching her backpack, she ran, imagining she could feel hot breath and grasping claws at her back.