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The machinery around him whirred and groaned, though he felt that perhaps it was not as loud as he was perceiving it to be. Or maybe it was. Perhaps the noise was truly, actually this deafening. He never knew, how accurate the things he heard were. Sometimes the quietest breathing made his head pound like a drum. Other times he needed to play his techno music at 200% just to feel like a living being.
His lungs burned. His legs ached. He was a blur of green and purple as he ran through the halls of this big, empty building. His footsteps fell hard and heavy on the metallic floor, clanging loudly with every movement.
He was sweating so hard some droplets were landing in his eyes, despite the mask. But he didn’t stop. No, he didn’t dare, not now, not ever. Not until he was away from here, not until he was safe. Not until he knew that it couldn’t reach him.
Some intelligent, rational part of his brain tried to remind him that he would never get far enough. The reasoning was drowned out by the blood in his ears.
A wall came up in front of him, covered in bronze and copper. He skidded to a near stop in front of it, turning right and darting quickly in that direction.
He didn’t know where he was going. He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know how to get out. He didn’t even know what was behind him. Every twist and turn looked the same, large walls covered in devices that reached far into the sky above him.
As Donnie turned another corner, he was nearly knocked to the ground by a pendulum, swinging in time with the ticking of his heart. He stumbled, slipped, got up and kept running. The pendulum kept swinging, oddly weightless for how big it was.
There were no steps behind him. He didn’t hear any breathing, either. He would have been relieved, had it been any other pursuer. He would have slowed down, had he not seen the figure before.
He would have stopped, had the creature not been so quiet when it came after him.
He jumped over a fallen cart in the middle of a hallway. Ducked under a doorway, into a big empty room. There were more doors in front of him. More doors behind him. More doors above him. Doors in places he couldn’t reach, doors he couldn’t see even though his mind insisted to him that they were there.
His head hurt.
He sprinted right, throwing open a large, steel door and slamming it back shut behind him.
There was a writhing mass of darkness behind him in the reflection of that door. He refused to look back at it again.
The hallway he was in was long, longer than most of the other ones. Narrow, too. His arms almost brushed against biting metal every time he swung them.
His head felt stuffy. Was it hot in here? Could he even feel hot? His body wasn’t quite sure what it was feeling. He felt tired, and pained, but there was no temperature. He tried to ignore how much that made his skin itch, how completely and utterly wrong this all felt.
The hallway was still going. It didn’t look like he was making any progress.
The gasping sob he made was almost more painful than breathing.
He forced himself forwards, even though every step felt like walking on knives.
It was still behind him. He could feel its presence, a creeping sense of pure despair that was trying so hard to catch up to him. Or maybe it wasn’t trying at all. Donnie couldn’t tell if he was outrunning it because he was faster or because it wanted him to.
His heart kept beating, in time with the ticking. In time with the walls, with his breaths, with his footsteps. It thumped wildly in his chest, too fast and too slow all at once.
He was getting closer. He swears he’s getting closer.
His limbs felt like lead, his head like cotton. His shoulders felt heavy and his shell stiff, even though he knew that there was no metal shell there to protect it.
The ticking felt louder here, nearing the end of the hallway. It felt foreboding. Like a countdown.
It was so close. It was so close.
Donnie went quicker. Skin slapped against metal as he forced himself to fasten the pace.
He was nearly there. He was almost there.
He launched into the room at the end of the hallway at breakneck speeds, eyes frantically darting around the room as he searched for… something. His neck near snapped as he caught sight of the bed in the far right of the room.
He ran.
The ticking felt even louder now, blaring in his ears, but he forced himself forwards.
He jumped.
The noise of the machines kept blaring in his ears, louder, louder, louder. He caught a glimpse of winding, ribbonlike limbs, lacing around his arms, his neck. He felt the almost prick of those ribbon’s sharp ends, pulling at his nerves and setting his heart on fire.
He landed.
And then it was quiet.