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Description
A darkness is seeping in. Unknown and malignant it creeps beneath the door and through every small crack that exists. It seeps like the coldness of a fog sweeping along the floor of a valley dark with the night lit only by the silver of the moon. Wind rattles the small broken window that sits high in the wall and a misshapen branch of a lifeless tree scrapes across it creating a chilling screech. A shudder wracks her body as she remembers, her body is numb with coldness, not from the night, but a coldness that has seeped into her heart and taken over fibre of her being. The nighttime is the worst. The never-ending hours of darkness, sleepless she waits for the morning. Afraid, afraid to close her eyes and sleep lest the nightmares come again. On the hardness of the cold wooden floor crouched and huddled against the wall at the back of the room, clasping her knees to her chest for warmth she waits. She is surrounded by decay. The building she huddles within is derelict and ready to fall to the ground but it shelters her from the worst of the weather. The cold biting wind that has blown for days is unremitting and echos the very soul of her. The rain that has fallen has left an enduring dampness and the stench of mould permeates the air inside the building. Her ears strain to listen for the sounds that would tell her that her hiding place is no longer safe, that those who pursue her have ferreted her out in this warren of dereliction that was once, not so long ago, a mighty city. For almost a day now it has been quiet. She no longer hears the sound of boots crunching in the stony earth, the sound that had dogged her for days has gone silent. Never could she see her pursuers. Always she had managed to stay one step ahead and out of sight. Her flight fueled by fear. Fear of what would become of her if they were to catch her. Dread of the horrors she had already endured and atrocities that she had witnessed committed against others. But she was tired now and had not slept for more time than she could remember. Her mind plays tricks on her in the darkness. Shapes appear out of nowhere, ghostly shapes that seem to drift in and out moving through the solid wall. Her eyelids are heavy. She closes her eyes briefly, just for a moment. She is so tired. Her body is weak from hunger and weary from constant running but her mind is racing, vigilant, alert for danger unwilling to let her take the much needed rest. It is then that she hears a sound. Her eyes fly open at the sound of footsteps echoing on the wooden floors in the corridors of this long forgotten place. The sound grows louder as the footsteps approach the door to her hiding place. She is tense with fear and prepares for flight, searching for a way out. She holds her breath, listening to the footsteps approaching the door, her eyes seek another route for escape in the darkness, but there is no other door and the broken window is far to high for her to up climb to escape. She is trapped.

Description
A darkness is seeping in. Unknown and malignant it creeps beneath the door and through every small crack that exists. It seeps like the coldness of a fog sweeping along the floor of a valley dark with the night lit only by the silver of the moon. Wind rattles the small broken window that sits high in the wall and a misshapen branch of a lifeless tree scrapes across it creating a chilling screech. A shudder wracks her body as she remembers, her body is numb with coldness, not from the night, but a coldness that has seeped into her heart and taken over fibre of her being. The nighttime is the worst. The never-ending hours of darkness, sleepless she waits for the morning. Afraid, afraid to close her eyes and sleep lest the nightmares come again. On the hardness of the cold wooden floor crouched and huddled against the wall at the back of the room, clasping her knees to her chest for warmth she waits. She is surrounded by decay. The building she huddles within is derelict and ready to fall to the ground but it shelters her from the worst of the weather. The cold biting wind that has blown for days is unremitting and echos the very soul of her. The rain that has fallen has left an enduring dampness and the stench of mould permeates the air inside the building. Her ears strain to listen for the sounds that would tell her that her hiding place is no longer safe, that those who pursue her have ferreted her out in this warren of dereliction that was once, not so long ago, a mighty city. For almost a day now it has been quiet. She no longer hears the sound of boots crunching in the stony earth, the sound that had dogged her for days has gone silent. Never could she see her pursuers. Always she had managed to stay one step ahead and out of sight. Her flight fueled by fear. Fear of what would become of her if they were to catch her. Dread of the horrors she had already endured and atrocities that she had witnessed committed against others. But she was tired now and had not slept for more time than she could remember. Her mind plays tricks on her in the darkness. Shapes appear out of nowhere, ghostly shapes that seem to drift in and out moving through the solid wall. Her eyelids are heavy. She closes her eyes briefly, just for a moment. She is so tired. Her body is weak from hunger and weary from constant running but her mind is racing, vigilant, alert for danger unwilling to let her take the much needed rest. It is then that she hears a sound. Her eyes fly open at the sound of footsteps echoing on the wooden floors in the corridors of this long forgotten place. The sound grows louder as the footsteps approach the door to her hiding place. She is tense with fear and prepares for flight, searching for a way out. She holds her breath, listening to the footsteps approaching the door, her eyes seek another route for escape in the darkness, but there is no other door and the broken window is far to high for her to up climb to escape. She is trapped.