Page 18 of Strangled
I’m all too aware of the walls surrounding me as I take a hit from my bong, letting the thick smoke fill my lungs. My head swims as I hold it in, eyes locked on the staircase: the sharp edges of wood, warped and cracked in places, thick, sticky webs smeared across from the heavy traffic it’s unaccustomed to.
Someone to my right grabs the bong, forcing my eyes away. The touch startles me, and I release the smoke I was holding. It burns my lungs on the way out, and I cough, slamming my hand against my aching chest as I try to catch my breath.
I’m dizzy and slightly disoriented. My eyes skate over the crowd as I fight for some kind of traction to keep me stabilized. When I catch sight of a slightly familiar face moving through the crowd, I push to my feet. I sway, my eyes rolling back as I fight for equilibrium. When the ground beneath me feels stable enough, I start off in the direction I saw him moving in.
Sweat clings to me, adding a fresh ripple of heat skating over my skin. Bodies press into me from every direction. I hold my arms out as I’m knocked to the side. My clammy palms slide over someone’s equally sweaty back.
All I can hear is a dull, monotonous hum of the voices around me. Even the music fades into the background as the sound of my wheezing fills my senses, along with the roar of blood in my ears.
Thump.Inhale.
Thump.Exhale.
Thump.Inhale.
My heart beats in time with every breath. Even my feet step in the same rhythm.
When I finally break through the horde and spot the guy disappearing at the top of the stairs, all of the noise around me comes crashing back into place with a thundering roar that throws me off balance.
Dread sits in my gut like a lead weight as I stand at the foot of the staircase, fingertips wrapped around the banister. I tap my pointer finger, feeling the web underneath my hand sticking, pulling at my skin as I force it away.
My neck arches as I follow each step with my eyes, apprehension unfurling. I’m not quite sure why I’m even following this dude.
Yeah, he pissed me off by trying to be tough, but it’s not like I want to try to start another fight. Or maybe I do. Becausehedecided to take matters into his own hands when he thought I couldn’t handle myself.
I sigh, wrenching my hand away and curling both into fists at my sides as I start my ascent. I’m fucking lying to myself, and that pisses me off more than anything. What kind of sick bastard am I that I fuckinglikewhat the man in the wall did for me?
With these notions now in my head, I need to prove he even exists—toseehim, to speak to him.
A bellow rips through the air, followed by a deafening thud. My steps falter, and I trip on a warped piece of wood. My back jars as I twist and slam into the steps, sliding down on my back. My arms flail as I try to catch the railing in my grip. When my fingers wrap around one of the bars, the deteriorated wood rips right out from the banister.
I’m gasping for air when I finally stop about ten steps down from where I fell. A deep, persisting throb aches at the base of my spine as I force myself to my feet. I push past the pain as I scramble back up the stairs.
It has to behim.
My heart is in my throat as I round the banister, my feet sliding along the roughened wood, splinters digging into my fingers. A deafening roar rings in my ears—the rushing of my blood and the sound of fuckingnothing,an eerie calm.
I yank my phone out of my pocket and fumble with it as it slides through my slick palms. It clatters to the floor, the sound deafening in the static-charged air. “Fuck!” I whisper as I drop to my knees in search of it.
It feels like it takes minutes before it’s in my grasp again, and I’m flicking on the flashlight button. The bright, white light illuminates the subtle, orange glow around the opening of the staircase. My hand trembles as I wave it slowly across the diameter of the hallway.
As the beam creeps along, the cobwebs in front of me refract the light, seeming brighter and more abundant with the flash amongst the dark, but it only casts the other end of the hall in deeper shadows.
I squint my eyes as I take one step at a time, straining both my eyes and ears as I draw nearer to the end. A black spider crawls along the wall before disappearing behind a door. My shoulders hike to my ears as a shiver creeps down my spine. My skin erupts in a new wave of goosebumps.
There’s a loud creak followed by a bang, then the stillness commences. It’s gone as quickly as it materialized—like every other fucking time—making me feel like my sanity is teetering on the edge, about to shatter into a million irreparable pieces.
My heart lurches, and I lunge forward, the beam of my flashlight mimicking a strobe light as I whirl in every direction, looking for fuckinganything.
There has to besomething.
My hands smack against my head as I pant, the oxygen pouring from my lungs faster than I can replenish it. I’m losing my fucking mind. These noises have to be coming from somewhere, from fuckingsomeone.I know I’m not just imagining it.
I’m not fucking insane—I’m not that person.
I might have fucking thought that if it weren’t for what happened in the murder room. I know those fucking idiots heard him, too. He scared them away, for fuck’s sake.
“It’s not in your head,” I murmur aloud to myself, and then I fucking cackle, throwing my head back and letting loose. My shoulders shake from how hard I laugh—even though not a goddamn thing is funny.
