talien
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A Love in Need: Part 8 – The Motel Room
Archive ran to the second room, one that didn’t already have a corpse in the bathtub, and gently lowered Kliss into it. He turned on the spigot and began assembling a healing poultice. He could keep her alive, at least until they were able to get proper medical help. But she would be horribly scarred for the rest of her life.
The power went out. Silence. The room fell into total darkness.
There was screams from the bedroom. Archive stepped out, Glock at the ready.
Nothing. It was pitch black.
The power flashed back on. The room lit up. The television flickered back on. A horror movie onscreen screamed.
Someone began banging on the wall.
Archive spun, not sure where to point his pistol.
Suddenly, the power went out again, sending the room back into dark silence.
The thumping on the adjoining door began again. The lights went dark, then burst back on, then off again ... repeating like a strobe ... flashes of screams erupted from the television each time it restarted.
Archive looked closer at the video. It wasn’t a horror movie, he realized. It was a person in the room. It was Andrews, screaming for his life as something grabbed him. He was stabbing his attacker with a knife.
Archive looked down. There was a dark red stain on the carpet.
He became aware of a presence in the bathroom doorway. It didn’t move ... just stood there, filling the doorway, only a few feet away. Then it was gone.
The power came back on. Archive ran into the room. Kliss was missing.
There was a squeak from under his feet. Archive looked down at the rug he was standing on. He stepped off, slid the rug away, and discovered a trap door in the floor.
He lifted it and climbed down the ladder into a six foot by six foot box. There was nothing but the trap door in the ceiling and a small, sewer pipe-sized dirt tunnel leading out.
Archive squeezed into the tunnel. Dirt fell over him as he crawled deeper. The dirt walls of the tunnel squeezed Archive’s body as he crawled. Rocks and underground vines jutted out of the earth.
Archived dragged himself along the seemingly endless black hole. Nothing but darkness ahead and behind him. The tunnel squeezed even tighter. The walls partially collapsed, just a sliver of space to drag himself through. Dirt rained overhead as he crawled, like the passage was only seconds from caving in.
Archive pulled along, squinting into the black, until his hand grabbed a handful of flesh and fur, which elicited a loud squeak.
Archive pulled his hand back and watched as a rat scurried away to a larger shadow, a moving shadow. Dozens of rats filled the tunnel ahead.
He continued toward the mound and the squeaking grew louder.
Archive pushed through the center of the pile. Rats scattered, crawling over his hands and up his arms. He reached further and more rats squirmed out from under his hands, slithering out of a metal grate in the wall or scurrying beneath him.
Archive kept crawling, sliding over the tiny bodies, until finally, the squeaks faded. All he could hear was his own breathing, desperately trying to make it to wherever the tunnel led. And then a sliver of light appeared ahead.
Archive ran to the second room, one that didn’t already have a corpse in the bathtub, and gently lowered Kliss into it. He turned on the spigot and began assembling a healing poultice. He could keep her alive, at least until they were able to get proper medical help. But she would be horribly scarred for the rest of her life.
The power went out. Silence. The room fell into total darkness.
There was screams from the bedroom. Archive stepped out, Glock at the ready.
Nothing. It was pitch black.
The power flashed back on. The room lit up. The television flickered back on. A horror movie onscreen screamed.
Someone began banging on the wall.
Archive spun, not sure where to point his pistol.
Suddenly, the power went out again, sending the room back into dark silence.
The thumping on the adjoining door began again. The lights went dark, then burst back on, then off again ... repeating like a strobe ... flashes of screams erupted from the television each time it restarted.
Archive looked closer at the video. It wasn’t a horror movie, he realized. It was a person in the room. It was Andrews, screaming for his life as something grabbed him. He was stabbing his attacker with a knife.
Archive looked down. There was a dark red stain on the carpet.
He became aware of a presence in the bathroom doorway. It didn’t move ... just stood there, filling the doorway, only a few feet away. Then it was gone.
The power came back on. Archive ran into the room. Kliss was missing.
There was a squeak from under his feet. Archive looked down at the rug he was standing on. He stepped off, slid the rug away, and discovered a trap door in the floor.
He lifted it and climbed down the ladder into a six foot by six foot box. There was nothing but the trap door in the ceiling and a small, sewer pipe-sized dirt tunnel leading out.
Archive squeezed into the tunnel. Dirt fell over him as he crawled deeper. The dirt walls of the tunnel squeezed Archive’s body as he crawled. Rocks and underground vines jutted out of the earth.
Archived dragged himself along the seemingly endless black hole. Nothing but darkness ahead and behind him. The tunnel squeezed even tighter. The walls partially collapsed, just a sliver of space to drag himself through. Dirt rained overhead as he crawled, like the passage was only seconds from caving in.
Archive pulled along, squinting into the black, until his hand grabbed a handful of flesh and fur, which elicited a loud squeak.
Archive pulled his hand back and watched as a rat scurried away to a larger shadow, a moving shadow. Dozens of rats filled the tunnel ahead.
He continued toward the mound and the squeaking grew louder.
Archive pushed through the center of the pile. Rats scattered, crawling over his hands and up his arms. He reached further and more rats squirmed out from under his hands, slithering out of a metal grate in the wall or scurrying beneath him.
Archive kept crawling, sliding over the tiny bodies, until finally, the squeaks faded. All he could hear was his own breathing, desperately trying to make it to wherever the tunnel led. And then a sliver of light appeared ahead.