|
|
First Prize
Sam Bruton
Peebles High School
The Predator
|
 |
|
|
|
Tanya sighed and rubbed her tired eyes before replacing her glasses on her face. The computer screen blinked, searching for her missing file. This was her first assignment at the Daily Waker newspaper office, an assignment that had taken a whole week so far. Her Employer had thrown her into the deep end after reading her previous work on the dangers of waste dumping in the North Sea. The case was taking all her time and effort. The whole thing was just so absorbing and so exhausting. She sighed. I need a break, she thought.
Tanya worked in a cubicle in a large room filled with similar working spaces. The main lights were off and the darkness was imposing, pressing down on her from all sides. Tanya's own computer stuttered through a list of company stock sales. A weak Ikea lamp flickered on the desk next to Tanya's. The owner and user of the lamp was a tall, stubbled man in his mid thirties by the name of Nathan Dores. He was both colleague and friend to Tanya. He had acted as her guide and mentor in this strange new world of journalism a big step up from Tesco.
She sighed again and stood up, stretching and lion-yawning. This had to stop! After just a week the stress was getting to her. She couldn't handle it. She navigated her way slowly to the large window-walls and rested her head against the cool glass. Maybe Tesco was a better job than this. Perhaps the weight of putting money in a box was considerably less than the weight of informing the world about the terrors out there.
"Late enough to go home yet? teased Nathan."
She groaned in response.
The darkness was broken briefly by the searching flash of sheet lightning. The windows rattled as heavy rain lashed against the thick glass. It wasn't cold in the office, but the night still bit into her. A heavy quiet settled over the room, growing deeper and deeper, stronger and stronger until it screamed to be broken.
"Should get home. You coming? Im not sure I should leave you on your own on your first week."
"I can handle myself thanks, she said. Anyway, I want to finish this report."
"Suit yourself. But I warn you, it gets kind of creepy here on your own. Enjoy." He picked up his tattered briefcase and left. His footsteps faded into a quiet patter, then disappeared. Tanya was alone.
Slow seconds passed. She took a deep breath and crept softly back to her desk. Typing made her feel more comfortable, she could forget she was alone.
What was that? Tanya spun round, her chair falling with a clatter. She heard nothing except the sharp intake of her own breath. But she had heard, no felt something. The dark fabric of her aloneness had been momentarily disturbed. The air felt chill. She needed a coffee.
Nathan, lost deep in his private thoughts about a piece of work he was investigating, reached the top of a large marble staircase. The dark that was silently crushing him like a giant velvet boa constrictor seemed to make the cold white marble shine eerily. He seemed to be walking into a feebly veiled trap. He sensed rather than felt the cold breath on his neck. Everything went very still, even time. Cold flooded his body. Before he had time to scream his body was crashing down the steps, the silence of his fall punctuated by the sharp crack of his skull meeting stone.
Tanya stumbled and groped along the borders of frenzy. Her imagination kept defining her world and creating horrific scenes out of tall dark shadows that followed her. Despite being a rationalist she was certain that something was indeed creeping silently behind her. She moved with more desperation and panic. She'd given up the idea of coffee. She had to get away.
She searched for clues to where she was. Through the dark a large notice informed her that she was in section 2B. This was comforting; it seemed to tell her that she was still connected to reality. She turned a corner. A strange flickering light emanated from an open door ahead of her. Far from comforting, the unusual light set her hairs on end. There was something unearthly and haunting about it. Tanya crept forward cautiously. She reached the door. She put a cautious hand forward and pushed the door fully open. The sight inside chilled her on every surface in the room stood black candles emitting flashes of yellow light. On the desk an ugly congealing red stain seeped into the mahogany. Lying lifeless and limp on the desk was the cold form of a human hand.
Nathan blinked in the dark. Unbelievably he was still alive. Every bone ached. He tried to scream, but couldn't. Far above him a dark shadow moved away. Blood trickled down his head into his eyes. Somewhere sounded a low, reverberating, rasping breath. Darkness hid the intruder, but Nathan could sense someone was there. He groaned. He could feel death close. The sound came closer.
Tanya, half yelling and half screaming, hurtled down the corridor, her every sound muffled by the darkness. She came to the foot of a large flight of marble steps then stopped dead. The steps were stained from top to bottom with a red trail of blood. Curled in a ragged heap at the bottom, his limbs twisted at odd angles, lay Nathan. Swallowing another scream, Tanya darted forward. She threw herself down at Nathan's side. He whimpered: he was still alive but for how long? His eyes were closed and a dark liquid puddle formed a halo about his head like some twisted biblical image.
"Nathan! Are you ok?" She was sobbing, almost pleading with him to be alive. He gave another whimper.
The figure towered over Nathan, its twisted demonic form seemed to radiate pure terror. He could see death in its yellow eyes.
"Nathan, you won't die!" Tanya tried to remain calm. "I'm going to call for help, theres a phone just down here." Not knowing if he had heard, she sprinted down the corridor to the phone. The dark was now twisting around her, making it hard to breathe. The payphone was cracked but Tanya lifted the receiver anyway. The line was dead. Investigating further she saw why. Someone had cut the cord. Behind her Nathan's strangled scream split the darkness.
A cold rotten hand twisted around Nathan's neck, the rotten flesh crushed into his own. He fell limp, his life cut short.
Tanya stared in horrified fear and confusion. Her hand was stretched forward and twisted around Nathan's neck, except that her hand wasn't her hand. It was elongated, twisted and rotten like something out of a nightmare and it was dripping warm blood. What was going on? What had she done? A torn, terrified yell of panic erupted behind her. She spun round and saw, with a feeling of no longer being connected with reality, the curled horror-stricken form of Tanya. But, the creature thought, if that was indeed Tanya who or what am I?
|
|
|
|
