ohgod ohgod we're all gonna die [Ryan, Morgan, ...?]
[[immediately following i ain't afraid of no ghost]]
After the first hazy, terrified second of flight, Morgan took back control of her brain and told herself not to run blindly. To run straight back the way she came, straight back to Ashwood, and not allow herself to be detoured. There was no telling what the hell was down the alleyways that flashed past, and without another dog to insert itself between her and - and - that thing or another like it, there was no saying what would happen.
Don't run blindly. Just go home and lock the door. Go home as fast as you can.
Sneakers slapping on the sidewalk in a sharp, staccato rhythm, Morgan took control and let the adrenaline of fear fuel her flight. She hadn't gone far, the walk to the Denny's had been almost a straight line down the street, surely it couldn't be far -
A shadow moved ahead in the alley she was going to pass, all the warning she had before something large rolled out to obstruct her path, and all the reptilian part of her brain that controlled fight or flight needed to take back control. Her feet slid right out from her under her, so frantic was her response to stop, and the pain from scraping one elbow on the sidewalk in her scrabble to turn and get back onto her feet never even registered. All she could see was the large, looming figure of something very furry and ominous, and she swore she could hear it breathing, and the smell of it oh god oh god ohgod just run away!
She should have tried just running around it, dashing past to continue on her frantic race to Ashwood, but terror had her turning back the way she came - until she remembered what she was running back towards, at which point Morgan swiftly detoured down the nearest lighted intersection, dead certain the whatever-it-was was loping along silently behind her and ready to rip out her throat.
And then the night only got worse.
A hanged man dangled from one streetlight, flicking like an old fluorescent light, rolling his eyes at her as she passed. Globes of light appeared and vanished in her path, floating like disembodied eyes down the center of the street. Something snarled at her from the broken windows of an old abandoned store. Ghosts shimmered on the sidewalk, their half-seen but entirely-felt eyes watching her, studying her. And at each impasse Morgan could only turn down another road, double-back the way she came, twisting down half-lit alleyways when it was her only escape, fear and adrenaline tearing through her. All with that silent whatever-it-was loping behind, hovering at the edge of shadow whenever she looked behind her.
Gasping for breath, unable to scream or call for help or vocalize the frantic ohgod ohgod ohgod that monopolized her brain, Morgan swerved past another disembodied orb into another twisting alleyway, unable to see ahead more than ten or twenty feet in the gloom.
And promptly smacked face-first into a dead-end.
She sprawled backward, dazed from both her crazed dash into a brick wall and from smacking her skull on the grungy road beneath her. The stars overhead, in the slit of sky visible between the buildings, swirled hazily. And behind her, at the only exit, something low and harsh growled.
Get up, her brain said, but it was fuzzy and her limbs didn't immediately respond. Get up get up getup!
A soda can skittered across concrete. Morgan forced herself to roll over onto her hands and knees, dizzy and in pain - was her nose bleeding? - struggling to see what was coming. A shadow drifted across the far end of the alleyway, and she skittered backwards on hands and knees until she hit the wall of the dead end, gasping and scrabbling for the pepper spray in her pocket - her only defense - and praying that maybe whatever-it-was wouldn't see her in the darkness.
ohgod ohgod ohgod
After the first hazy, terrified second of flight, Morgan took back control of her brain and told herself not to run blindly. To run straight back the way she came, straight back to Ashwood, and not allow herself to be detoured. There was no telling what the hell was down the alleyways that flashed past, and without another dog to insert itself between her and - and - that thing or another like it, there was no saying what would happen.
Don't run blindly. Just go home and lock the door. Go home as fast as you can.
Sneakers slapping on the sidewalk in a sharp, staccato rhythm, Morgan took control and let the adrenaline of fear fuel her flight. She hadn't gone far, the walk to the Denny's had been almost a straight line down the street, surely it couldn't be far -
A shadow moved ahead in the alley she was going to pass, all the warning she had before something large rolled out to obstruct her path, and all the reptilian part of her brain that controlled fight or flight needed to take back control. Her feet slid right out from her under her, so frantic was her response to stop, and the pain from scraping one elbow on the sidewalk in her scrabble to turn and get back onto her feet never even registered. All she could see was the large, looming figure of something very furry and ominous, and she swore she could hear it breathing, and the smell of it oh god oh god ohgod just run away!
She should have tried just running around it, dashing past to continue on her frantic race to Ashwood, but terror had her turning back the way she came - until she remembered what she was running back towards, at which point Morgan swiftly detoured down the nearest lighted intersection, dead certain the whatever-it-was was loping along silently behind her and ready to rip out her throat.
And then the night only got worse.
A hanged man dangled from one streetlight, flicking like an old fluorescent light, rolling his eyes at her as she passed. Globes of light appeared and vanished in her path, floating like disembodied eyes down the center of the street. Something snarled at her from the broken windows of an old abandoned store. Ghosts shimmered on the sidewalk, their half-seen but entirely-felt eyes watching her, studying her. And at each impasse Morgan could only turn down another road, double-back the way she came, twisting down half-lit alleyways when it was her only escape, fear and adrenaline tearing through her. All with that silent whatever-it-was loping behind, hovering at the edge of shadow whenever she looked behind her.
Gasping for breath, unable to scream or call for help or vocalize the frantic ohgod ohgod ohgod that monopolized her brain, Morgan swerved past another disembodied orb into another twisting alleyway, unable to see ahead more than ten or twenty feet in the gloom.
And promptly smacked face-first into a dead-end.
She sprawled backward, dazed from both her crazed dash into a brick wall and from smacking her skull on the grungy road beneath her. The stars overhead, in the slit of sky visible between the buildings, swirled hazily. And behind her, at the only exit, something low and harsh growled.
Get up, her brain said, but it was fuzzy and her limbs didn't immediately respond. Get up get up getup!
A soda can skittered across concrete. Morgan forced herself to roll over onto her hands and knees, dizzy and in pain - was her nose bleeding? - struggling to see what was coming. A shadow drifted across the far end of the alleyway, and she skittered backwards on hands and knees until she hit the wall of the dead end, gasping and scrabbling for the pepper spray in her pocket - her only defense - and praying that maybe whatever-it-was wouldn't see her in the darkness.
ohgod ohgod ohgod