Seven: Broomsticks

2.2K 167 8
                                    

William had no way of knowing if he killed Father but he wasn't willing to go back and check. He had to get out now, no matter what. How many people were trapped in that place, just like him? How many had ever escaped, if any at all? How many had lost their lives there? Only the passage of time would bring answers.

Was time on his side? The passage of time was something that he barely had knowledge of. For him, time was simply a light through a small window, its eventual dissipation, and the lines across his face. The many scars upon his body served as a painful memory of terror; their own physical manifestation of time. Time was Sundays coming and going. Time was moving forward for some and stopped dead in its tracks for others. It was the old, worn-out walls around him that gave the impression of decades passed and yet somehow still holding firm.

William felt like the old bricks. Time had aged him and left him with little but walls. They would do nothing but lay bare against time until they crumbled and fell or were torn down. Yet he also felt that they created something bigger. They formed the hallways and the many rooms. They held the lantern light that revealed the way forward.

He imagined the walls within him. Built, brick by brick, with each new memory and experience. He'd built a house within himself; one without windows. A house with leaks and worn-out tile. It was like living in the unlivable. When something is built from the ground up with rotten wood and rusted nails, it may be better off condemned and demolished. But that's hard to do when someone has nowhere else to go. He could only build with what he was given, not with what he wished he'd had. But William wanted a new home. He'd try, at least, to tear the old one down. Time had given him unstable walls, but they also held the lantern light.

William walked, crouching under the shrinking ceiling. He heard a 'click-clack' sound a ways ahead of him as if something tapped the floor with a stick. He stopped for a second, his heart beating a little faster. He continued again towards the sound and heard it once more.

"Click-clack. Click-clack."

He kept going, a little faster.

"Shhhllllick-clack." As if it was slid along the ground before being tapped again.

It was louder then, definitely closer. William had to keep going.

"Shhhlick-clack."

That one was from behind him. He looked, seeing nothing but the blackness of the hallway. The ceiling was short, William was now crawling. He started breathing hard and his chest felt tight.

"Tik-tik-tik."

Quicker taps. Which direction now? The echo of the hall didn't help. As he listened closer, he started to hear a soft breathe in the air. An unbearable fear rushed over him and his stomach soured. He felt something under his knee, something round and thin. He grabbed it and pulled it out from under him. He felt the plastic and eventually, the course bristles of it fanned out between his fingers. Before a questioning thought could enter his mind, something pulled the broomstick violently away from his hand.

"Tik-tik-tik."

It slapped the ground beside William and another one hit the concrete behind him. Without hesitation, he began crawling as fast as he could. Something tugged on his pants and what felt like sharp fingernails gripped his skin.

"Tik-tik-sshhhlick-clack!" Came from right behind him.

William let out a desperate scream.

"Shit!"

He could hear the panting of the things behind him. He no longer envisioned his pursuers as human but as something else entirely.

"Come on, William, come on, William!" He repeated, kicking off the grabbing hands behind him.

His knees started aching as they slid and rubbed along the ground. The ceiling shrunk more the further he went. He was sliding now, on his belly on the concrete like a tortoise in mud.

"Shit! C'mon, Will. C'mooonn!" he kept yelling, trying to fight the exhaustion.

"Sshhllick! Sshhhliiick!" Still behind him, dragging the broomsticks and clawing at his legs.

One arm in front of the other is all he could do. His arms could barely squeeze between the walls and the feeling of being lodged in the tiny hallway nearly broke his spirit to continue. The air became thin and the space was so tight that he could no longer reach behind him or turn his head.

"Please, please, please!" He begged, hoping with all that he had that a way out would be close.

Then, he felt it. No more floor. An empty space. He went for it and pried his small frame up and over the edge, head-first into an unknown chasm. He still heard the things behind him, too close for comfort. His body dropped down the hole, the sound of his clothes and skin rubbing against the coarse brick around him. He dropped a couple of feet before his body became wedged.

His eyes widened with horror and shock. He was in complete disbelief at the situation. He struggled a bit, trying to get loose.

"No no no no no," he said, frantically.

The sounds behind him stopped. He was looking straight down below - not by choice. He had no way of knowing how deep the hole went but he could make out what seemed to be a glow from a lantern. He started to feel around him, gliding his hands around the walls. The edge of his fingertips grazed what seemed like the end of the hole, where it opened back up again.

"I'm. Right. There!" He yelled in frustration, using his fingertips to grip and pull. He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself.

"Talk low, talk slow, and don't talk too much." He muttered before sucking in air through his nostrils.

He slowed his breathing as best he could. He felt the blood starting to pool into his head, arms, and hands. Everything became incredibly sensitive, creating painful pins and needles under his skin. After a minute of hanging there, thinking became almost impossible. He opened his eyes and saw below, the glare of light upon someone's eyes, looking straight up at him.

"Help! I'm stuck!" William sputtered, trying to catch breaths within the tight squeeze.

He heard breathing behind him followed by the ticking against the floor. He felt his hands being grabbed, causing him to gasp at the pain in his extremities. His body budged.

"That's it! A little more!"

He could feel his bony waist sliding down. Then, with another hard pull from below, his body shot down from the hole and met face-to-face with the ground below.

The Maple LeafWhere stories live. Discover now