A Story by Steve

A man contends with a strange presence while running for his life.

There is a strange presence building and tearing away at the edges of my consciousness. It invaded my mind weeks ago as far as I can tell. Suddenly there is a cacophony of feet on stairs and a strong confident knock at my apartment's door. I look through the peep hole and see seven men in black suits gathered around my door.
At this point I have two option: option 1, I pretend I'm not home in hopes that they leave, or option 2, I try to fight my way through the men and try to escape. Neither option seems plausible at this point. There's no way i can fight seven men and they didn't seem to be going anywhere anytime soon.
I could turn myself in, let them take me where ever they were planning. I find myself pacing in front of the door. I guess the men are not one's to be kept waiting because the knocking has become more forceful than before.
"Open up. We know you are in there!" says the presumed leader of the outfit/ His voice is rough and there is a grave seriousness to his tone. He is most likely not one to be trifled with. Well s**t there goes option 1. They are no longer knocking instead on of the men is throwing his shoulder into the door.
They are coming in I only have moments to plan.
The door gives way slamming open and smashing through the doorstop on the wall. I jump back from the door suddenly shunted out of my thoughts.
"Freeze!" yells the gravely serious voice.
"I uh..." I reply. Suddenly the world goes white. I feel my body acting without my input. Pain from my hand as it connects with bone and flesh. I hear snapping and crunching. A man's voice cries out in agony. Then I'm back, my vision clears.
The scene I find myself in is one of blood and death. Black suited men lay crumpled their blood pooling around them. I run.
I am dashing down flights of stairs now as fast as I can manage. I'm taking steps two and three at a time. I hear the faint sounds of sirens. I reach the second floor when the doors leading to the lobby of my building fling open wide.
"The subject is extremely dangerous do not engage head on," the grave voice from the policeman's radio says. I guess he made it out alive. The doors to the stairwell burst open and police in full riot gear start swarming in. I about face and book it up the stairs.
My intentions were never to hurt anyone. Now people are dead and the thing inside my head is coming out. My only option is to make sure they don't catch me. I don't know how to control this thing and no one else is going to die today.
I'm dashing back up the stairs, straight past my apartment's floor and upward. I can hear the footsteps pursuing me further down, but that heavy gear must be slowing them down. Thinking is harder while you are exerting yourself. I'm not in particularly good shape and running was never my forte. So I just run as fast as I can manage. My breathes are getting shorter and pain in my thighs is becoming unbearable. To take my mind off running I start counting the floor numbers. 15... 16... 17... 18.
I've reached the top floor of my building now and I throw my shoulder into the roof access door. It doesn't give. I put all my strength into it and still the steel door does not budge. I turn towards the stairs and listen as the footsteps draw closer. It's over, this presence is going to kill more people and there is nothing I can do about it. They are closing in now.
My vision goes white around the edges. I'm losing control just as before. As I do I feel strength surge through my body. Strength I didn't know I possessed. The thing is not in control yet! I can use this!
I turn and throw my shoulder into the door once more. The steel door tears from it's hinges and collapses onto the roof. I run through the door frame. I can barely see now my vision going more and more white with each passing moment. I see the first policeman emerge from the threshold. He's scared, I can smell it. It's intoxicating but I manage to retain control for now.
I'm at the precipice now, of the building and of my mind. One false step and I'd be thrown over the edge into madness. The officers are yelling at me but the words make no sense. One draws a gun points it at me and fires.White hot pain burns in my chest. I turn, look down at the street below, and jump.

© 2016 Steve

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Added on October 9, 2016
Last Updated on October 9, 2016



Clarkston, MI

I like to write comedy. more..

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