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You decide it’s time to make your way out of hiding and get out of the area.
You grab the first shotgun and immediately notice its’ the 12 gauge. It’s a short barreled Mossberg with a black and blue finish. This one also had a sling hooked onto each end. You load a couple of the slugs into it and set it against the desk. The second shotgun, the 16 gauge, had a longer barrel. It was a traditional older style of gun. It seemed antique, but reliable. You notice this one is already loaded, so you simply set it near the door.
“Well, Mr. B. I’m clocking out early today,” you whisper to yourself as you grab your punch card and time yourself out at the clock near the door.
You take a step to the computer once more and think of staying to check some things on the internet, but you grow tired of being closed in.
You reach over and grab the 12 gauge and start for the door. As from the obvious sounds of the heinous beasts trying to get in from the other, you can tell where they’re at by their shadows under the door. You draw up the shotgun to where you think it’ll hit one of them through the door.
“Exhale, and gentle squeeze,” you recite to yourself. But as your finger squeezes down, the kick comes at you with full force. Stumbling backwards, you’ve also made yourself damn near deaf! Looking up towards the door, you can see the shot clearly made its way through the door just fine. And once more, there wasn’t anything standing behind the hole.
Regaining your stance, you try to focus on where the second one was at, but the ringing in your ear disorients you slightly. Clenching your eyes closed tightly, your ears feel as though they’re bleeding. A strange clicking noise finally starts registering in your head and you find yourself looking at the woman’s face through the hole in the door. Her eyes. They catch your view and stop your body like a paralytic poison flowing through your veins. And just at that moment, you blackout.
Several hours pass before you come to. And you begin to realize, you can’t hear anything. And a palpable darkness seemed to have set in since you last remember. All the power appeared to have been cut. No computer light, no office lights, no nothing. Just some faint night time eye adjustment.
You can barely make out the hole in the door, but there doesn’t seem to be anything trying to get through to you in it.
You slowly draw the pistol from your pocket and begin crawling ever so quietly toward the door. Once you reach it, you sit up onto a knee to look through. A dark mess lies on the other side in a pool of crimson red. And if you squint, you can just make out the desk and see past it through the window.
“It’s now or never,” you tell yourself as you build the courage to open the door.
A tiny creak comes from the bottom hinge, but it was too short and not nearly intense enough to be alarming. Still trying to stay low and quiet, you continue crawling on your knees. One slow, steady step at a time. Once you make it to the hallway going to the laundry room, you try peaking around the corner. Nothing. No movement, no noise, not even a whisper.
You allow yourself the belief that it’s clear. You decide to crawl on your stomach past the hallway, just in case. With your pistol in your right hand, you begin to army crawl very slowly. You hardly notice you gun clicking on impact as your hand hits the ground. This makes you start keeping your hand higher off the ground, but you clear the hallway unscathed.
Now, you make your way to the back of the desk. Rising up just enough to check the other side of it, you see nothing.
You check near the door going outside. Nothing. You begin to rush yourself, feeling closer and closer to getting to your car and being able to leave this haunting place.
Raising your body to the desk, you begin to mantle it. Quietly and gently lowering yourself over the other side. You press your chest against the ground once again and hope you can make it outside safely. “Once there, I can run and shoot with a little more light than this,” you think to yourself, noting the full moon outside.
You think you hear a clicking noise, but quickly dismiss it. Once you reach the door frame, you check the corners.
A tiny crackling noise comes from behind you and startles you so much that your crawl around the left of the doorway and set your back again the wall.
“I’ve made it,” you think to yourself. “I’ve fucking made it!”
One of the clicks catches your attention and you freeze up. It came from inside the office. You lower yourself. The ground bracing your back. You roll over enough to glance around the corner. And right in front of your eyes stands two high heeled shoes. You try not to scream but the feeling of her nails scratching at your skin and her teeth pressing through to your bones forced out a shrill cry of absolute terror that lasted but a second.