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Description
Doodle or Die prompt: "Help!!!!!!!" -Klast
Room: Everyone

It was always only the last door that was open, but Nicky knew it was important to check each one she passed. As she backpedaled down the hallway she tried turning every knob. Locked. Locked too. Locked. Wait- this one might actually... Nicky jiggled the handle and banged the door against its frame, but it remained sealed. Damn- now those valuable seconds were gone and her pursuers drew closer. She swept them with the beam of her flashlight, spear tips and beady eyes glinting like terrible constellations in the night. Go! Keep moving! She shuffled backwards, socked feet scrambling for traction on polished wood. She suppressed the urge to turn and flee, knowing that facing forward would only cause the hallway to stretch and unspool, twisting far into the darkness. Space here was beholden to no laws except capricious dream logic.

Still, she should have reached the end by now, right? Nicky felt herself flagging. Her heart pumped fast and she was breathing hard. If she was in a bit better shape, if she was a little lighter, the chase wouldn't be so stressful. But instead she struggled to move in her sausage casing-tight jeans. Heat built up under her sweater. She was damp and tired. Her leg muscles hurt. It'd be nice if this was over, one way or the other.

Sensing weakness, the swarm narrowed the gap between them.

Nicky ran her hand along a stretch of unbroken wall. What? What the heck? Where were the doors? She was just starting to panic when her big, padded butt thudded against the back of the hallway, then her skull smacked drywall. Ow! Her flashlight clattered to the ground, lighting a surrounding army of vengeful attackers. Dead end. This time where was no escape.

"Help. Help! Anyone? Hello?" Her own pleas echoed a mocking answer. It was useless since she had never seen any other humans in these nightmares, so instead she addressed the mob arrayed before her. "G-guys- I know this looks bad." Nicky brushed her fingertips across her stomach. The holiday season had been overly generous to her waistline, giving her the doughy physique of a pastry killer. "But it's going away- I swear! New Year's pledge: no carbs." A guilty twinge coincided with her getting stabbed in the toe. Luckily, her nail deflected the point. "Hey! Well, fewer carbs. But it's so hard! They're in everything! I try. I'm trying- I swear, I swear. You're safe from me. Never again."

Just last Sunday there were donuts at church and Nicky was careful to not return to the fellowship room until they should have all been snapped up. Yet when she got there, a half of a plain cake donut was still lying in the box, dejected, right next to the plastic knife responsible for the amputation. A clean cut- no teeth marks or even an ambiguous tear. It was a sight so pathetic, she popped it in her mouth before she could think twice. Only now that she was facing down a horde of its bereaved brethren did she feel regret. Tears streamed down her cheeks. "I'm sorry! I can change! I might fail and stumble here and there, but I'll make it. I'm real sorry."

Then they came in a rush, spears outthrust. Then they were upon her.

Description
Doodle or Die prompt: "Help!!!!!!!" -Klast
Room: Everyone

It was always only the last door that was open, but Nicky knew it was important to check each one she passed. As she backpedaled down the hallway she tried turning every knob. Locked. Locked too. Locked. Wait- this one might actually... Nicky jiggled the handle and banged the door against its frame, but it remained sealed. Damn- now those valuable seconds were gone and her pursuers drew closer. She swept them with the beam of her flashlight, spear tips and beady eyes glinting like terrible constellations in the night. Go! Keep moving! She shuffled backwards, socked feet scrambling for traction on polished wood. She suppressed the urge to turn and flee, knowing that facing forward would only cause the hallway to stretch and unspool, twisting far into the darkness. Space here was beholden to no laws except capricious dream logic.

Still, she should have reached the end by now, right? Nicky felt herself flagging. Her heart pumped fast and she was breathing hard. If she was in a bit better shape, if she was a little lighter, the chase wouldn't be so stressful. But instead she struggled to move in her sausage casing-tight jeans. Heat built up under her sweater. She was damp and tired. Her leg muscles hurt. It'd be nice if this was over, one way or the other.

Sensing weakness, the swarm narrowed the gap between them.

Nicky ran her hand along a stretch of unbroken wall. What? What the heck? Where were the doors? She was just starting to panic when her big, padded butt thudded against the back of the hallway, then her skull smacked drywall. Ow! Her flashlight clattered to the ground, lighting a surrounding army of vengeful attackers. Dead end. This time where was no escape.

"Help. Help! Anyone? Hello?" Her own pleas echoed a mocking answer. It was useless since she had never seen any other humans in these nightmares, so instead she addressed the mob arrayed before her. "G-guys- I know this looks bad." Nicky brushed her fingertips across her stomach. The holiday season had been overly generous to her waistline, giving her the doughy physique of a pastry killer. "But it's going away- I swear! New Year's pledge: no carbs." A guilty twinge coincided with her getting stabbed in the toe. Luckily, her nail deflected the point. "Hey! Well, fewer carbs. But it's so hard! They're in everything! I try. I'm trying- I swear, I swear. You're safe from me. Never again."

Just last Sunday there were donuts at church and Nicky was careful to not return to the fellowship room until they should have all been snapped up. Yet when she got there, a half of a plain cake donut was still lying in the box, dejected, right next to the plastic knife responsible for the amputation. A clean cut- no teeth marks or even an ambiguous tear. It was a sight so pathetic, she popped it in her mouth before she could think twice. Only now that she was facing down a horde of its bereaved brethren did she feel regret. Tears streamed down her cheeks. "I'm sorry! I can change! I might fail and stumble here and there, but I'll make it. I'm real sorry."

Then they came in a rush, spears outthrust. Then they were upon her.