XVI - Josh
Air. Slow breaths. In and out. Breathe. Cold plaster and slick dried paint. Spread fingers. Cool forehead. Burning
eyes, cheeks, knuckles. Thundering
blood. A mantra of curses. Unfocused.
Silence is the lie. Cacophony inside.
Scream!
Josh opened his eyes and sighed. I'm still here.
The
hospital hadn't faded away, the nightmare still awaited them outside its doors
and he would have to go back upstairs and face the old man, and Paige and the
boy and somehow carry on as they were. Fuck!
He
kicked out at the wall again, but this time he aimed too low and his foot
dragged against the plastic flooring, or at least it ought to have. Instead it slipped across something wet and
slightly sticky and he found himself losing his footing. He tried to take a step back but his other
foot found the same substance. He just
had time to look down at what it was before he stumbled backwards and landed
hard on his backside with a jolt, his palms splashing into pools of orange-red,
viscous blood. Somehow it was
everywhere, lying in puddles all across the corridor, seeping out through
cracks in the walls near floor level.
Now he was close to it he realised it smelled odd, rank even, like
disease and decay - and the colour, not dark enough for normal blood, filled
with patches of orange and yellow and pale pus. He fought the urge to gag, slipped and staggered to his feet,
then scanned along the dark corridor before turning back to the doors to the
stairwell.
They
weren't there.
He
pressed his hands against the blank wall in disbelief, gaze whipping left and
right, trying to see if he'd just moved along the corridor without noticing,
but there weren't any other doors that he could see either. He reached for the flashlight, the handle
stuck in the waistband of his jeans when they stepped into the light of the
reception. He switched it on and let
the beam shine along the corridor. It
seemed to stretch on indefinitely. He
turned and shone it down the other way, revealing a stark dead end only a few
feet beyond his previous field of vision.
What
the fuck is going on here?
With
no other choices apparent he turned back down the passage and began to walk,
his boots splashing in the foul puddles as he went and his stomach threatening
to divulge its contents with every step.
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