Machines hummed and whirred. A man rubbed his eyes and adjusted his position on the chair. Too many late shifts were taking their toll.
The monitors flickered for a moment, a blink and you’d miss it occurrence. Hallways and holding rooms were displayed, their occupants either curled up in their corners or pacing endlessly. One was scratching at the walls of its cell, howling, but soundless to the cameras watching it.
The man was startled out of his chair when an alarm blared. With a panic, he scoured the screens for any sign of a disturbance. None of the alert lights were lit either. And, just as quickly as it had started, the alarm stopped. Everything went dark.
The man’s breath caught in his throat and he had to force himself to swallow the rising lump of anxiety. He’d trained for this. Shaking fingers fumbled for the flashlight on his belt. He couldn’t stop the sigh of relief when it switched on and illuminated the space before him.
Something groaned. It was long and deep, like metal slowly buckling under the pressure of a large amount of water.
The man reached for the gun under his desk and started towards the door. The hallway before him was pitch black and yawning. Step by careful step he walked through the darkness, his light barely able to illuminate the area before him and adding to the eeriness of the place.
Don’t look. Never look. It’s a distraction.
Onward, he walked.
Was the air getting thicker? Probably just nerves.
Focus. Don’t turn around.
Another low groan. Closer. A creek.
He squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed hard. Don’t turn around. Do not turn around.
Something brushed the back of his neck. He whirled around out of instinct. Nothing was there.
There was a clatter as the flashlight fell to the ground, then flickered out.