Member-only story
Escape the theatre
The mayhem that occurs within.
The hallway was silent as I limped my way towards the stairs. I was exhausted but forced myself to keep moving. The familiar pang of anxiety rose in my chest. I could not believe what I had done. Breathing heavily, I passed room 24, the door slightly ajar. High sickening laughter caused me to halt. A shiver ran down my spine when I heard the raspy voice of the clown.
Crap, I’m done for now I told myself. I’m going to die, I’m going to die, I’m going… My mind began its usual loop of negative thinking.
“She’ll never escape,”
“Are you sure about that Squiggles? She’s a clever girl, she could find a way,” rang the voice of the blade master. I dared not move when a blur of spiky red hair whipped past my peripheral vision.
“Maybe so, but no one escapes the theatre. Dead or alive, she will be found and put to use,” the clown sniffed the air. “Fresh blood; someone is close, very close.”
My watch beeped, letting me know an hour has passed. I wasted no time speed walking past the door. The gash in my thigh still bled from my daring escape. After provoking the insidious knife master, I ran out of the practice hall. Before I could get to the door, I felt a sharp blade sink into the back of my thigh. I barely made it out the door in time.
