- Created for the purpose of the Halloween Vault -
On Halloween night, things always go bump in the night in the lonely pages of Spookerella. Whilst the dead wander the earth, haunting those who are still among the living, Spookerella waits for a fo...
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The cogs ticked in the very small distance that myself and the terminator were apart. The fog obscured the sight of the dreaded creature, but it did not obscure those shining red dots or the sounds of cogs and gears whirring and turning inside that mind.
I weighed up my chances of survival. They were pretty slim, whether I turned away and kept walking as if it were not there, whistling to the wind, or if I run in the opposite direction of where it currently is. I could be caught up or I could be killed instantly. I don't know what weapons this thing possesses.
Perhaps I am being paranoid, yet I cannot help the feeling that the darkness is encasing myself and the clockwork mechanic in this moment in time, shielding us from the prying eyes of the drunks on the streets. Not that they would understand what would be happening anyway.
I turned away from the glaring stare, continuing to walk. I began at a slow pace then began to speed up, all the while bearing the screeching and whirrs from the cogs that turned in the clockwork creature.
Then, I set off at a run, the creature still walking as quickly as it could behind me, not exactly keeping on my tail, but racing after me still.
Two whooshes sounded beside me and on stopping by a building, a pair of sharp knives stuck into the wall, barely missing my head.
At that I continued to run, the adrenaline the only thing preventing me from pausing, even for a moment. The sound of my heart beat thundering against my ribcage echoed in my ears, blocking out all noise. Red and blue dots danced in my vision, my head becoming slightly lighter as I felt dizzy. I moved my arms back and forth, propelling me to run further, to run faster.
No longer could I hear the metallic thud upon the cobblestone streets. No longer could I hear the whirs or the screeches.
Replacing it was the sound of my blood rushing and my heart racing against my eardrums.
Not too far up the road, the lights of the bustling streets of the large city lay. The fog obscured it from sight, but the numerous figures of people celebrating yet another night of alcohol and music gave me enough hope that I could get lost in them.
A pressure was applied to my shirt, pulling me backwards, towards the creature I was trying to run away from. The front of my shirt was fully on my neck, pressing into the skin. I was being strangled by my own shirt and those cold, red eyes didn't show a hint of emotion towards caring.
No.
Instead, they looked deep into my soul, the whirs and ticks being drowned out by the ringing in my ears. My vision became blurry, darkness entering the edges as I lost my breath...
