The harsh 'clank clank' of my high heeled shoes as they slapped against the marble floor echoed off of the seemingly sky high walls. I ran as hard as I could, sucking in air so hard it hurt. My chest felt so heavy I thought it would bust and my side had a terrible knot in it.
Every hall way I turned on looked identical to the last and I had no idea where I was anymore. I thought about stopping and trying some of the doors, but I knew the residents wouldn't hear me. They never did. No one hears ghosts.
I glanced over my shoulder at the empty hall, but I knew better. He was there, following me, waiting to pull me back. He was always there.
I turned one more corner and stopped dead in my tracks. Chest heaving, I looked around at the shiny silver numbers on the tall wooden doors, panic spreading throughout my body. I heard a deep, sickly voice grumble a laugh from behind me, sending chills down my spin. Him.
I had no choice but run down that oh so familiar hallway, past those doors. If I could just make it past that one particular door everything would be fine. I ran with all my might, closing my eyes as I rapidly approached it. I was so close.
If those sharp, jagged claws wouldn't have dug into my ankle, if he hadn't yanked me to the floor, if he hadn't flung open the door to that awful place, if he hadn't dragged me inside kicking and screaming all the while, I would've made it. I would've been free to the light.
The odd painting of the tall, eerie man who founded the hotel was the last thing I saw as he drug me, once again, into the horrid, place of despair that is room 234.
YOU ARE READING
creepshow (wattys2018)
HorrorHe's watching me. That's all he ever does. He stands on the other side of the glass and stares at me. He brings his friends and they join him in the pointing. They tap their fingers against the glass at me, the noise filling my ears, causing my worl...
