Raelyn's hands trembled as she pressed herself against the wall. her breath ragged, throat tight with terror. The butcher's footsteps echoed through the room, slow and deliberate, each step a countdown to her death. Blood smeared her palms as she wiped them against her pants, the coppery scent burning her nose, mingling with the stench of rot and decay.
The door was just a few feet away—her only chance. But every second that passed felt like an eternity, each sound amplifying the nightmare that surrounded her. She could feel the presence of the butcher, a hulking mass of horror that stalked through the room, dragging its bloodied cleaver across the floor with a low, screeching sound.
Her eyes darted around the room, desperate for an escape route, but all she saw were bodies. Dismembered limbs hung from the ceiling on meat hooks, torsos split open and emptied like grotesque vessels. Flies buzzed around her, crawling over the winds of the dead, feasting on the rot that filled the air. She gagged, bile rising in her throat as she forced herself to stay silent.
The butcher paused, its head tilting as it listened. It could sense her. Somehow, it knew she was still there, hiding in the shadows, waiting to die. Raelyn's plus raced, her heart hammering against her chest as the butcher began to move again, closer now, its heavy footsteps squelching in the pools of blood beneath them.
Without thinking, Raelyn lunged forward. She sprinted toward the door, her legs burning with fear-fueled adrenaline. She grabbed the doorknob, slick with blood, and twisted. It wouldn't budge. Panic clawed at her throat as she pulled harder, her fingers slipping, but the door was locked tight.
Behind her, the butcher let out a low growl, a sound that sent chills down her spine. She turned just in time to see it lunge, its cleaver raised high. Raelyn ducked, the blade slicing through the air just inches from her head. She hit the floor hard, the impact sending pain shooting up her arms, but she forced herself to roll away before the butcher could strike again.
The cleaver slammed into the ground where she had been, sending bits of bone and flesh flying. Raelyn scrambled to her feet her hands slipping in the blood that coated the floor. The butcher moved faster than something its size should, its breath coming in ragged hisses as it swung the cleaver again, narrowly missing her as she stumbled backward.
Her back hit something hard—a table. Without thinking, she grabbed the closest thing she could find—a jabbed shard of bine— and hurled it at the butcher. It struck him in the chest, but he didn't even flinch. Instead, he tilted his head, his hollow eyes locking into hers, as if amused by her futile attempt.
Raelyn's chest heaved with panicked breaths as she backed away, her mind racing. There had to be another way out. There had to be.
Her gaze fell on a trapdoor in the corner of the room. half-hidden a pile of severed limbs. She didn't have time to think. She darted toward it, her feet slipping in the blood, her body trembling with fear and exhaustion. The butcher roared behind her, his heavy footsteps thundering after her as she closed the distance.
Raelyn reached the trapdoor, her fingers fumbling with the latch as she threw it open. The stench of rotting flesh wafted up from the dark hole beneath, but she didn't care. It was her only chance. She dropped into the blackness just as the butcher reached her, his cleaver swinging through the air where her head had been moments before.
She landed hard, the air knocked from her lungs as she hit the damp ground. She could hear the butcher above her, slamming his fists against the trapdoor, roaring in frustration. Raelyn crawled forward, her hands shaking, her body covered in blood and filth.
The darkness swallowed her whole, but she couldn't stop. She had to keep moving. She had to survive.