I don't think I've ever ran faster than this in my life. My feet are practically flying off the ground and my heart is racing with such a speed that I think I'm going to have a heart attack. I turn my head back for a moment to make sure Harry is behind me and sure enough there he is at the top of the stairs.
His face is bloodied up and scratch marks cover almost every inch of him. I can tell he is in great pain by the way he winces with each step and how his face crinkles together when the pain strikes him. I hate the black figure. I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it. Never have I ever hated something this much, and I've hated lots of things.
Seeing him like this stings my eyes with tears which are still rolling down slowly from fear. A mix of emotions fly through me, crashing together just making me a complete mess. I'm so frightened and worried and confused and I just want to go home. I want it to be okay now and I want... I want... I want to be okay.
My foot catches on a step and with a shriek I feel gravity pushing me down. That awful feeling you get when you miss a step washes through me in seconds but right when I'm about to fall, I feel myself being brought up.
I tilt my head and Harry is right there with his arms around my waist. He let's go and due to him being up close I can really see how deep his cuts are. "Okay?" He asks.
"Yeah." He winces suddenly and screws his eyes shut. "Hey, what's wrong?" He shakes his head a little and tries smiling but I can tell it is fake.
"It just hurts a little but I'll be fine. Don't worry about me right now, worry about yourself. " He attempts to pass it off as if nothing and pulls away from me.
"Bullshit." I tell him and grab his arm before he can begin running off. "I will worry about it. Harry, you are really hurt and we need to get you something. If we can find a bathroom I can get an emer-."
"No. Emery we have to go. The black figure will find us soon and if we don't hurry up we'll get in worse conditions. " I stare at him like he's crazy for a second and pull him towards me.
"You think I'm not scared? You think I don't just want to get off this freaking island and be okay? You think I don't know that that thing is after us? Cuz' I do. But I can't risk your safety. God dammit Harry, you don't know how hard it is to see you like this." Tears threaten to spill over my eyes and my voice begins to get shaky. He should know that I'm not just going to let him leave like this. His clothes are getting soaked with blood and he thinks this is alright? Hell to the mutherfucking no.
"Emery..." He sighs and looks behind us in worry. He brings a hand up to his hair and I watch him wince when he accidently touches an open wound.
"Okay. Fine we'll find a kit but it has to be fast. If we can't find one soon enough we are getting out of here anyways."
"Let's go then." We jump down most of the stairs in a hurry and we look both ways to see if the black figure is near.
"Do you know where there is a bathroom down here?" He asks and faces me.
"Ummm..." I close my eyes and try to think hard and fast. Suddenly, a memory of when I first came here pops into my head. "Yes. C'mon follow me. " We tip toe our way over to the side as fast as we can, careful to not make any noise. We are met by a huge hallway (when are there not hallways?) with a couple of lamps hanging from the walls. They flicker leaving me to assume they are candles.
"Who do you think lights the candles?" He whispers right next to me. The lights are dim making the room cast in moving shadows adding a terrifying effect to it all.
"Not sure. I wouldn't be surprised if it was a ghost by now. " Harry hums at my response and he absentmindedly looks for my hand in the dark. The further in we go the darker it gets. My eyebrows are furrowed the whole time from fear and concentration.
