The House on Mass. Avenue | Rensung

Untitled Part 21

Falling.

A sensation of falling.

Jisung was...falling.

The actions of moving downwards, typically rapidly and freely, without any control. Perhaps losing ones balance and collapsing. Maybe even utilized in the numeric definition of decreasing in amount, intensity, quantity, or value. Even in the militaristic sense of capture or defeat. It was painful to fall, Jisung felt, as his back prickled with fear, his eyes wide and terrified as he felt the horrible sensation of absolutely nothing behind him.

And then just as painful as the sensation of falling was, Jisung's body hit the floor. The air escaping his lungs like a sharp exhale of smoke, the tell-tale gasp for desperate breath ensuing shortly after. His back arched off of the wooden floor under him, another puff of air wheezing, this time slowly, out of his lungs as he rolled over onto his stomach. His fingers curled on the surface beneath him, coughing more as dust fluttered in the air.

The ashy surface beneath him was covered in small specks of grime mixed with crumbs and dust which had settled over age. His knees scrapped against that grimy wooden floor and Jisung's eyes opened, or at least he thought they were, for it was hard to tell from the sheer blackness that obscured his vision.

The basement...

I have to get out of the basement!

The thoughts whirled around Jisung's head as his gaze shifted from right to left then back to right and then back to left in desperate and yet somehow futile search for light -- for vision.

His hand jittered forwards, turning up more of the dust that lined the floor in a thick paste. This was followed insecurely by his second hand which echoed the same motion, continuing and continuing until the tips of his fingers knocked against something. A yelp slipped from his lips at the discovery.

Tentatively....oh so tentatively Jisung's fingers arched out, brushing against the surface in front of him. A wall. What he assumed was a wall. Jisung hesitated a moment before dragging himself to his feet, his back pressing right up against the flat surface of his discovery. His eyes shifted.

Back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and-

There.

Jisung's heart thudded deafeningly loud against his chest as his eyes strained, catching a sliver of light in the veiling darkness that had been thrown over him. He started forwards, his hands shooting out as he wobbled, his balance still not entirely there due to his lack of eyesight.

A step.

A step.

A step.

A droning and unnerving creaking followed each step that Jisung took as he painfully made his way across the basement floor, his mind blank with fear and unable to properly dissect what he was supposed to be afraid of. All he knew, all his guttural instinct knew, was that he was to escape.

The sliver soon displayed itself to be the bottom of a doorframe, Jisung's hand grasping tightly around a loose knob before he pulled inwards, an inordinate amount of light throwing itself into the deep dark depths of the room. Jisung jerked forwards, his arms blocking his eyes from the blinding light as he stumbled out of the basement and the hallway.

Except-

-it wasn't the hallway.

Once Jisung's eyes had become accustom to the light, he found himself surrounded by the ugliest wallpaper he had ever seen in his life. And it most certainly wasn't the wallpaper of the house he had become so accustom to.