It’s dark and cold. The concrete floor like ice against my torn skin, the bruises on my arms ache with every twitch of my muscles. I hear a noise, a scuttle of a stone on the floor. I freeze, hold my breath and hope he doesn’t notice me. I hear the bat scraping along the floor, leaving a trail of blood as he passes me. I slide back father into the hole in which I am hiding. As I lie here, I think about how I got here. It was a boring Saturday, nothing to do in town and only one friend who could hang out. I decided to go back into the old abandoned Odeon, despite my previous experiences in that place. I felt more confident than last time because it was the middle of the day. The grate was, as always, open. I slid in and landed on my feet. There was a short corridor between me and the auditorium but no light (my phone has a torch function so that was no worry). I walked slowly into the main auditorium. There was nothing out of the ordinary apart from the back wall. It was clean white unlike the dirty grey of the rest of the building. An electronic whir started to fill the air, building in volume. Suddenly a light burst from the projection box, illuminating the newly painted wall. The familiar countdown of numbers appeared but it stretched on to zero and then jittered back and forth from one to zero. Like binary. As it finally went to black, I thought it was over, but then a video began to play. No sound just a video. Showing a figure sat in a chair in a dilapidated room. He was wearing a grey hooded jumper and his face was concealed by darkness. The frames tore for a second, a mix of patches of black and small bits of footage. When it settled again the figure was looking directly forwards. It was Jitter. The mask was unmistakeable, the jagged stitches across the simple but terrifying face. The next few frames were the same but then it flicked to a video of the street outside the building. A view from the roof showed the street and pavement. Then I saw it. I saw myself standing on the pavement waiting to cross the road. Behind me, no less than 3 metres away was Jitter. He has been following me. This wasn’t news as I have seen him before, but never that close. Never within a hundred metres of me. The film began to deteriorate once more, then it cut out without warning. The darkness was so sudden it was blinding. I was glad to have my phone torch. A loud clatter broke the near silence. Naturally I turned round to face the source of the noise. My body froze. Along the wall below the projection hole, the words “You can run” were scrawled in blood red letters. Smeared handprints made up the majority of the text. The red liquid was still wet and dripping onto the floor. A sound caused me to spin round. I saw him, Jitter, standing against the back wall, staring at me. I sprinted for the exit but someone had moved a metal dustbin in the way. I was trapped. I prepared myself for the end and turned around but he wasn’t there. After finding my hiding place I thought I was safe. As I had crawled in, the broken glass had torn my clothes and cut my skin deeply. Blood ran down my legs like water and I felt faint. Now lying in darkness I watch him pass by. I have already told myself that I am going to die here, that I was never going to get out alive. But as I closed my eyes, I remembered the fire exits. Most of them had been blocked up but the one that lead into the alleyway between the Odeon and the next door building was still accessible. I slowly slid out of the hole and felt my way down the wall. My eyes are adjusted to the darkness by now, so I can see the holes in the floor that lead to the basement. I leave my torchlight off as not to alert Jitter to my presence. But as the wall end, I need it. I fumble in my pocket. Finally drawing it out I hit the button to activate my torch. The bat smashes into my face, dazed I step backwards into nothingness. I fall, through the floor and down two stories into the basement. As I lie here, broken in a growing pool of my own blood, my dead eyes dim and my vision if filled with a brilliant white. A hazy figure walks into my view. He kneels down beside me, the mask coming into full view. He whispers. “But you can’t hide.” Then he does something unexpected. He reaches for his mask. Slowly pulling it off his face revealing his features. I stare into the eyes of my killer. Green eyes. Like mine, exactly like mine. His face is my face. I am him. I am Jitter. My vision starts to fade to black. Jitter starts to count down. “5....4....3....2....1....” and the rest is darkness. -Jitter
Posted on: Wed, 25 Sep 2013 16:10:41 +0000