"Gasp-"
The sound of someone gasping for air reverberated in the room. It was as if that person hadn't taken a breath for centuries. The breath of life and stale air making them coughing in tears.
The person choked, then gasped feebly, laying boneless on the dirty moulded rug beneath them. After a longtime past, the person weakly got up on trembling limbs, and slowly looked around the room they were in.
It was a small dressingroom. With a single window above and few sparse furnitures scattered around with white dusty tablecloths for cover. A stream of sunlight filtered in, showing the dust particles floating in the air. The sunlight gently touched the sickly looking person standing feebly in the room, and they closed their eyes, appreciating the warmth.
They didn't know why, but it felt like they spent a very longtime in a very dark place. A dark place filled with fear and despair. A place were survival seems slim, and every second is a moment of unimaginable torture.
Strangely, apart from the bone-deep feeling, they couldn't seem to know anything else. They didn't know where they are, why and how they got here; who placed them here or if they brought themselves here; and most frighteningly, who they are.
They couldn't remember a name, face, life, anything.
The person shook slightly, and decided to look around more thoroughly. 'Maybe I can find out who I am by searching this room'.
The person limped slowly towards a small desk below the single window.
The person removed the white cloth and dropped it on the floor, rising a dusty air that made them cough.
On top of the desk was barely anything worth seeing. A crumpled old bubblegum wrapper, a very old-fashioned desklamp and a quill.
Opening the single draw of the desk, the person rummaged throw, finding nothing that highlights who they are. The person sighed disappointed, and was just about to close the drawer when they noticed a small, inconspicuous notepad.
No not a notepad, a small memo book.
The person opened the book, only to see a single sheet of paper with words written on it.
Words so shocking, so terrifying, that the person turned a pale sickly white. The book falling out of their bloodless hands onto the dirty floor. Sending up a small dust cloud.
The person started to tremble in fear. Bits and pieces of what seemed like dream, but felt too real to be one, making a from the deepest part their memory, to the forefront of their mind. Like a movie playing on rewind, over and over again. Imprinting itself in the mind. Deepening its impression. Unlocking the terror from deep within.
The pale figure of the person bathed in sunight with a gentle glow, gave an impression of a corpse left in the sun. But the continuous shaking of that corpse-like figure would let any onlooker (if their we're any) know that this person is alive.
Thud
The person jumped. Heart beating rapidly. Feeling shivers climbing up his spine, and tingling sense of danger ringing in the back of their mind.
A long dragging sound was heard in the quiet area. So loud it was daunting.
The person panicked. Looking around desperately for an escape.
The person didn't know why they had to escape; What were they escaping from? What's happening? They didn't know.
All they knew is that the louder and the sound, the closer the danger.
But it was only a small room. No intact cabinets or wardrobes. Not even a bed they could hide under. The only usable thing in the room is the small table under the window.
The persons eyes brightened. They looked at the window and table as if they saw hope in a sea of darkness.
The person unsteadily climbed the table. The small creaking sounding so loud in the room. Terrified, the person paused.
Only to hear complete silence.
Their heart beating extremely fast. Making the person fear it could be heard from a mile away.
Then the person heard the chiding sound speeding up. Getting faster and faster. Louder. Sounding closer. Too close.
The person moved fast. Heart beating exponentially.
Climbed up the table disregarding whatever sounds are made. Pushed the window.
Only for it to not budge.
The person looked faint. Trembling uncontrollably. The will to live fighting in their eyes.
They jumped off the table. The sound of dragging and thudthudthud sounding closer and closer.
Grabbed a broken foot off the floor that seems to come from a chair. It smelt musty and old. But the person gripped it tightly. Hurriedly climbed up the table and swung at the window with as much strength as they could muster.
A loud sound of glass shattering reverberated throughout the room.
The person didn't stop to hear of the thudding and dragging sound had ceased, but gripped the window sides regardless of glass shards piercing their skin, and climbed up and dragged themself out of the room.
The person found themself laying on glass, dirt and grass. The scent of iron and dry grass permeating their nostrils. Blood flowed between their fingers, forehead and other parts of their body. Their body getting injured when the glass had break and when they had forced themself up just now.
The person breathed out deeply. Feeling that they were still alive. When the person heard the door of the room they was just in made a loud crash sound.
Their body jolted. Heart speeding up and the forgotten fear from a second ago retaking their body.
They jumped up. And without looking back limped off in a run.
The person didn't know what they were running from. In fact, the person didn't want to know. They just knew that here was dangerous. That if they stayed here, they might die. They didn't want to die. Their was so much things they hadn't done yet. So much of their life that hadn't been lived yet. And he still hadn't yet confessed to the girl he liked. But the words written in that little memo book, on that single sheet of paper. So small it was almost missed, kept repeating in his head. Letting him know that he must escape. No matter what he mustn't stop. He can't stop running.
Run until he's escaped. Run until he's safe. Run until he outrun whatever is chasing him.
'Chasing?'
Yes something'schasing him. He's never noticed but something is definitely chasing him.
The words in the memo book seemed like a forewarning. The person ran. Twisting and turning. Bending corners and avoiding trees and rocks. Before he knew it, he had run into a forest.
'But when he had escaped that room, there wasn't any forest, so how...'
A splitting headache hit the persons brain. Almost causing him to stumbling and fall. Those broken pieces of memories seem to start joint together. Forming a full picture.
He remembered.
He had come here for a vacation. He and his friends. They were all here before school started. They went to a cabin. It was in a forest area. They were having fun, having until...until...
The headache became more severe. The person was sweating profusely. Panting and gasping as if he couldn't get enough air into his lungs.
Goosebumps broke out on his skin. The hair at the back of his neck standing upright in terror.
He was knocked out. He was brought here. He didn't know where he was. But he knew he was being toyed with. Something kept chasing him. In his fragmented memories, he kept running. Running from something he couldn't see.
That memo. It was the first time seeing it. He never remembered any notes, but it was always the same room. All those furnitures were destroyed. One by one by whatever was chasing him.
Thud
The person ran behind a tree. Covering his mouth to quiet his breathing. Figuring that if he could hide, maybe it would bypass him. Head in another direction and overlook him.
But the words kept floating. His heart beating so loud that he had to grab it. Hoping to calm it down.
Everything is not as it seems.
He couldn't be caught. He had to be quiet. He felt that if he was caught, he might not survive.
Get out of here and run!
He wanted to live. To see his friends again. Go to school. And finally confessed to the girl he liked.
*rustle*
The person gasp softly. Crouching down and peaking in the direction the noise was from. Staring intently.
RUN!
The wind blew. Causing the leaves of the trees and bushes to rustle. The forest was quiet. Other than the wind no animals could be heard. No birds. No rabbits. No insects. It was eerie.
Run as fast as you can.
The boy listened intently. Hoping to hear the sound of whatever is chasing him to be going in the other way.
Run and don't look back.
But it was so quiet. Too quiet that it was creepy.
Because this place,
Even the wind vanished without a trace. The silence was loud. So loud it was defeaning. But the person just simple breathe a sigh of relief. His shoulders slumped. Finally relieving the tension. And he laughed a little. So soft but loud enough in a silenced forest.
The boy turned around and--
Is a place where nightmares never end.
"Ste~ven~"
Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh!
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Who guessed It?
Nuttyweird says: 'Total silence can be be a forewarning of immediate danger'