A guy filled with fear was desperately racing down a dark, narrow corridor. Cracks in the walls flashed before his eyes, the cold floor bit into his feet like blades, and the smell of moss, age, and lost hope was everywhere. Every move echoed endlessly. It seemed as if a ravenous crowd was chasing him. However, his pursuer was much worse.
A shadow silently glided across the ceiling - a loathsome incarnation of his fears and anxieties. It was oppressive and all-encompassing: it sucked the joy and hope out of him, turning his inner world into a barren field. It created all the worst things in his life and destroyed all the best.
The boy was running with all the power and despair that fear could give him. His muscles burned from neck to foot, threatening to give out any second. Each step could be his last due to the fatigue intensified by wild fear. There wasn't a single secluded place on his way where he could hide, take cover.
His strength was gone, and he fell to the floor. The shadow caught up with him. He turned around and saw it looming, slowly extending its cold, lifeless fingers towards him. And then, finally, it touched...