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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1923773-Ghastly
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #1923773
A woman is being chased in the dark.
    She stumbled through the dark. It's been too long since she saw the light of day. Her feet ached and her stomach growled. For how long could she keep this up, she wondered, her mind blank, her body a moving automaton. Her only goal is to escape the terror so horrific it took her guts out just to picture it. Even though she never saw who was after her, hearing his footsteps approach filled her with such terror that she would jump out of her skin to evade capture. 

    She traced her fingers along the mossy coolness of the wall as she walked along, the only tangible presence beside her in the dark. With mounting nervous tension she listened to the emptiness around her trying to reach with her senses as far as she could, hoping to gauge the distance between her and the ghastly predator that was hunting her. She heard nothing. Good, he must be far, or… he could be here right next to her, waiting for the chance to pounce and crush her every bone, tear her flesh with his metal fangs, taking the skin off in strips!

    Her heart raced, crashing against the ribcage.Blood rushed into her ears, thundering like a waterfall. Now she couldn't hear the rustle of his footsteps even if she wanted to. She fell to her knees, scraping them against the stone floor, clasping her ears tight in agony. This is it, she saw no way out, the threat loomed so insurmountable that it was useless to run, nothing she could do to defend herself against the monster.

    Why should she run? Let him come, let him take her.The nightmarish succession of narrow escapes drained her will to live. Every time her delirious hopes of final escape have been shattered by the sound of his footsteps in hot pursuit, brought her closer to death, to just giving up. The terror she felt, the exhaustion of her physical and emotional strength was much worse than what he could do to her. Let it be death painful but quick, let it be torture, let it be anything else than the constant uncertainty of the chase. Let it finally be over!
   
      She turned and faced the way she came. And surely she heard his quick footsteps high up in the staircase above the tunnel which she hoped he wouldn't enter for the dark underground that loomed there. Where was the sound reasoning in that, trying to hide in the dark from the creature that is darkness itself? Now the darkness couldn’t save her, nothing would.

      He rushed upon her like an incoming train, preceded by a rush of hot air smelling of freshly spilled blood. The thing had the shape of the human body but that’s where the similarities ended. His limbs and torso were woven out of metal cables of varying thickness, his head a mass of razor sharp metal spikes without eyes or mouth, he didn’t need them to track and devour his prey.
   
      He picked her up by the collar of her shirt and touched her face with a claw puncturing the deathly pale skin. A bloody tear ran down her cheek. She gasped and bit her lip to keep from screaming.
   
    “Cryyy for meee” The raspy voice hissed the words into her ear.
     
      She grabbed his forearm trying to pry herself loose from his grip but all she did was cut her fingers on the metal spikes that ran down his arms. Her blood streaked down the blade dripping onto the stone floor. She felt no pain, being in a state beyond terror, she could only feel the cold of the metal cutting into her flesh.

      It was a dead end. There wasn’t a spot on that body where she could hit without hurting herself. This must be her punishment for being so weak and stupid. She didn’t care if she deserved it or not. The anger that she felt had to be directed at someone if she couldn’t hurt the monster she would hurt herself or he would gladly do it for her. All she had to do is to submit. She closed her eyes and lifted her face giving herself up to the inevitable. She felt distant from her body, at this point she really didn’t care what would happen to her.

      Seconds meted out the time she had left, hanging on to the death’s grip, wondering when it would come, when she heard that voice again.

      “You have the nerves of steeel” Said the monster and let her go.

        When she opened her eyes he was gone, the receding footsteps sounded amazingly… like a retreat.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1923773-Ghastly