Prompt: Drapetomania (the overwhelming urge to run away)
Quick note about this, it is not explicitally stated what the main character is running from, but I did give a few clues as to the identity of what's chasing him so if you catch 'em, props to you! And yes, it is meant to be choppy and have a lot of interrupting thoughts from the brain interrupting the flow of the story (I was trying to mimic what one might feel in this situation)
Left foot.
Right foot.
Left foot.
Right foot.
Faster faster! His brain chimes. Must go faster, faster!
He counts each time his foot hits the pavement, trying to calm his frantic brain, but the rumbling that he hears behind him only adds to the building anxiety and fears in his chest. He flinches at every loud sound, eyes focused forewards, set on an unknown goal. He has to keep moving, keep moving faster.
Faster, faster!
Each breath is like a dagger to his chest as he struggles to get enough air into his lungs with his fast pace. He wants to stop, wheezing and gasping, his lungs crying out in pain but he can't. He can only ignore how everything in his body screams at him to stop, to rest before it gives up because his feet ache from so much running, he feels lightheaded from the lack of oxygen in his lungs but he can't. His brain continues to wailing, begging him to move faster, put more distance between him and them.
They're so close, too close! Must go faster, must go faster!
It replays like a broken record in his mind and he obeys to it, taking a sharp left, feet skidding on the pavement. For a moment, he feels a flash of panic that he'll fall, stumble to the ground but rights himself at the last second, stumbling. He loses some speed for a moment before he regains it with some struggle, pushing his body beyond the limits it's used to.
Must hide! Must hide! They're too close, too close! His brain shouts and as he runs, he scans his surroundings with wild eyes, trying to find some familiarity in the chaos. He hasn't been paying attention to the street signs, nor had he earlier noticed how far he was away from the safety of his home, and regrets that now as he flees from their bloodthirsty eyes and sharp, dagger like claws. They want to rip into his flesh, tear him apart and leave nothing behind.
Keep going! Faster, faster! His brain urges.
He turns right at the stop sign, then left into a dimly lit alleyway.
Left foot.
Right foot.
Left foot.
Right foot.
He takes another left and darts behind an overflowing dumpster -
if it were empty he could hide in it. The stench would surely hide his scent from them and he'd be safe. Safe. Hidden. Safe
- before scaling a chain fence.
Keep going, can't stop.
He dodges the trashcans -
Don't hit them! Too much noise. They'll hear you. Run! Faster faster!
- and keeps running.
Left foot.
Right foot.
Gasping, he stumbles, wincing as a sharp pain travels through his body. He's twisted his ankle.
He hisses, leaning against the brick wall for a moment. Panting, struggling to catch his breath and careful eyes scan the street that opens up before him. He can hear the rumble in the distance, growing louder, but other than that, it's empty. His mind recognizes the street, just barely. The name leaves him, but something in his mind tells him safety is up ahead, that he just needs to go a bit further and he can hide, escape from the monsters that hunt him like a piece of prey. All he has to do is avoid the looming shadows, avoid being swallowed up by them and dodge their sharp claws.
Just a little further. Safe. Safe.
Without wasting another moment, he darts out of the alley and sprints down the street, his ankle crying out but he keeps going. Houses blur past.
One, two, three, four, five, six.
He counts the passing houses, closer, closer, feet slamming on the pavement.
Hide! Hide!
His sneakers then skid on loose gravel as he reaches the house, running up the unfinished driveway. He hops up the stairs, skipping most of them and panting in front of the door, fishes out his keys with shaking hands, constantly checking over his shoulders.
Not safe yet. Hide, hide!
He hears the rumbling again.
The keys drop with a clatter on the porch and he scoops them up, cursing his shaking hands before jamming the first key into the lock. He hisses when he realizes it's the wrong one, brain a jumbled, panicked mess as far too many thoughts are running through it to allow for him to concentrate.
Hurry hurry hurry! His brain wails. They're getting closer!
He nearly drops the keys a second time before finding the right key and shoving it into the lock, twisting it and opening the door with a bit too much force, having practically slammed himself against it. Entering the dark house, he slams the door shut, locking it quickly before dashing to the windows, drawing the curtains shut.
The rumbling is even louder now, right at the end of the street.
Three houses down. Sp close, too close! Hide!
They're still out there, following his scent, hunting him down like prey.
Oh god…
He drops the keys, rushing upstairs.
Hide. Hide!
It's darker upstairs and he stumbles, foot catching the step. A low growl leaves his lips as his knee connects with the wood of the stairs and he rubs it, limping slightly as he continues up the stairs. Closet, he needs to find some sort of closet or cupboard to hide in. They knew where he lives, one locked door won't stop them. He needs to hide, find somewhere small and quiet that they can't see, that they won't see when searching the house. The prey needs to outsmart the predator.
The halls, which were once so familiar to him become long winded and foreign as his brain continues to panic, wild eyes trying to pick up shapes in the dark. But it's a futile attempt to find some calm sanity in his mess of a brain. His legs shake, ankle throbbing and knee now too as he blindly moves through the unfamiliar dark hallway.
He hears thumps, shouts outside. He knows they've found him. They're trying to get in.
Oh god, oh god!
He picks up his pace, quickening his stumbling but his ankle has other plans and causes him to crash to the ground. A growl leaves his lips and lifts his head from the ground, drawing the injured leg close to his chest.
Then the doorknob rattles and there's thumps on the door. Then silence.
He freezes, heart beating wildly like a trapped animal trying to break free of it's cage. He holds his breath, hoping and praying they've left, realized this is all a misunderstanding. Perhaps the beasts with gleaming eyes and sharp claws will leave him alone, let him live another day.
Minutes tick past or perhaps it's hours, maybe even years. Not a single sound beyond the frantic beating of his heart.
Quiet. Safe. Quiet. Gone.
Then there's a loud crash and he know's he's wrong. They've busted the door in, he realizes with horror.
Run! Hide! Hide!
He scrambles to his feet, ignoring the pain from his ankle and stumbles with one hand dragging along the way towards the nearest bedroom, slipping in and closing the door behind him. Maybe they won't come upstairs. Maybe they'll leave, search the main floor, search the basement and go. Maybe they'll think he fled through the backdoor, into the wooded area in the back. Unless one went around the back to check while the other entered the house, sniffed around to see if he did actually leave or was still in the house.
He slips under the bed, knowing that although it is smarter to hide in the closet, he could escape quicker if under the bed - plus monsters always hide under the bed, his brain whispers, breaking its feverish onslaught of chaos to tell him that.
Safe. Safe.
Then he hears the thumps again, up the stairs they come.
Pause. Silence. Only his rapidly beating heart threatening to jump out of his chest.
They're here. Run, run! Found you! Found you!
Softer footsteps approach the door to the room and it creaks open slowly, and his heart skips a beat.
No.
Shoes pass his vision and he holds his breath, watching as they go towards the closet and fling open the doors, riffling through it for him. While its back is turned he slips out, avoiding the light, softly, softly, moving across the room.
So close, so close.
Then the second one materializes out of the shadows and he realizes he's trapped.
His brain goes blank as panic washes over him.
It barks, teeth gleaming and the other turns to face him, wild eyes glowing with hunger and joy. His own eyes are wide with panic and he stumbles backwards pitifully, ankle giving out on him and sending him yet again crashing to the ground.
Too late, too late! Can't run! Can't hide! Can't escape!
They loom over him like hungry shadows waiting to swallow him whole. Shark-like grins of proud hunters shine through the darkness and they raise their gleaming claws in the air.
Too late.
Did you figure out who was chasing our MC?
This is actually one of my favourite prompt based fics I've written in the last few weeks just because of how different it was (I feel like I say this too often).
Let me know what you thought of it in the review part below! Also, for anyone waiting for the next chapter of WTTYS, it should hopefully be up by the end of this weekend, school's just been a huge pain.
-Twist