Sunset Dawn

My chest heaving violently blocking silent chants to remain quiet. I hold my gun to my chest the kind it is eludes me. In my eye's it's merely a revolver, in my experience, a dilapidated fence and post. I exhale, an attempt to steady my hands. My feet are slipping and my knees hurt. I glance down to the hall, sticking my neck out. Blackness; well, mostly. Dim light passes through the three windows forming pools of reveal and hope. Death and a reason to stable my mind. I exhale again and focus not on the countless unchecked rooms but this one empty hall. "It's safe it's safe," I stand, hands on its handle and still pressed against my chest. I move slowly my feet glue to the ground and, in some ways, I feel my way forward. through the corners of my eyes, and too afraid to look entirely, I glance through the glass rectangles on the three doors I pass. Nothing. I exhale again and relax.

"Charles, Chelsey, okay at least Robert." He sighed. Always like this, up and gone he hoped they weren't. Black one second and the next, climbing off of the makeshift bed, nothing. It was night, he guessed, seemed to soon and his watch wasn't working again, saying that it was only about five in the afternoon. He called again, "Charles, Chelsey, Robert, come on one of you has to be here." Now he was frustrated as a repressed thesis made it's way back. Defeated, "they left me." His hands limply at his sides he does a sweep, a half circle on the balls of his feet. A reassurance to himself. Nothing.

He held the rifle across his legs and spoke sense to his sporadic lungs. He titled his head upwards and steered at the ceiling. Events playing in his mind as gruesome wholes, and twisted entities as he tried to take them apart and make sense of them.

He pressed his hand against his abdomen and gazed at it's back as if he could bore holes. he wished he could. Activate some sort of power and down the thing but wishes are wishes. He laughed. The shiny body of well, whatever it would have turned out to be, in his mind. Ironic. "Harm." He remembers saying. Yep, blasted ironic. It tilted it's head upwards and started to sniff the air. It's head jerking and twisting. It was all in his mind but he could hear it's neck snapping.

I stood with my hand tightly hugging the handle of a door. My breath kicked up again and once more I was unsure. Creature or hiding spot? Hiding spot was funny to me, I should run, or so I think. Trust me I tried. I opened the door, slowly. I pushed it open so gently you could have sworn it was doing me a favor. Peered inside the muscles on my left hand almost bulging from how prepared I was to slam it but alas there was nothing. Another sigh of relief. I made my way in and locked the door behind me. I didn't really care about being trapped, to be honest, the more I thought about it, cowardly reason reappearing in the apparent lack of danger, everywhere was a trap. I sat on the first desk I sat and after some tinkering found my way to opening it. The gun, opening the gun. I counted the bullets, three, half of what it comes with and about that many sat a wall somewhere, yeah my aim. I reached into my pocket, shuffled under the gum wrappers and pulled out three bullets. I reloaded and after some more tinkering found how to close it back, and be sure it was close. I reached into my other pocket and pulled out my gum. Three sticks. I sighed. Have to make the best of this. I put back all but one. As I freed it, so to speak, I got an idea. I glanced behind me, "no windows, just that one door," I put the stick of gum in my mouth, "that means," I took aim, "one way in."