If you listened, you could probably hear it. That obnoxious clicking sound, like nails against wood-that was them. You should count yourself lucky if you hear that sound for more than a few seconds. Most people never hear that sound, because most people aren't so lucky. I was lucky.
Click, click, click.
My clocks, they didn't tick, they click, click, clicked. That's all they do now. Because of those things, of course.
Then there was that god-awful thing that they did, with their fingers, where they tapped them, like something waiting impatiently. I hated it! It makes me wonder, what the hell were they taught to do while waiting for prey?
Click, click, click.
Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.
It was so goddamn annoying.
I'd seen what they were capable of doing, they just tore people indiscriminately, and didn't even bother to get rid of the corpses. The carriers were at least eating them, but Jesus, these… fucking frogs didn't even bother to do that! And poor Becky, of course, I couldn't get there fast enough, of course I'd walk in, just as the thing took her head clean off. I'd have nightmares about that, for sure.
I was in a closet, because the place where I was at, was crawling with those fuckers. The hallway was just a narrow and dusty corridor, where two people standing would be considered a crowd. And, of course, with my shit-tastic luck, there were three of them, clicking, tapping and generally being a fucking bother.
And here I was, holed up in this dusty closet, clutching my handgun, like a little bitch. I hadn't run into Jill yet, but I had found Barry's eviscerated body lying on the first floor corridor, not far from where I was hiding now. The Captain didn't know shit about where Jill was, and that worried me.
I only really had two options: I could stay in the closet and die of starvation, or I could leave and die quickly. It was some really grim shit I had gotten myself into. In the closet, all I could see besides old bric-a-brac, was a canteen of kerosene and a broken shotgun. If I could somehow use those things, maybe I could survive, I figured.
Click, click, click.
Tap-tap-tap-snarl-snap-tap.
I decided to take my chances. I took the canteen and spilled the gasoline under the door, leaking it out into the hallway. I whispered a wordless prayer, before kicking the door open and dashing out. I was quick, they hadn't noticed me yet, and once I was a safe distance, I used my lighter to set the kerosene aflame. The hunters were consumed in the fire and smoke that was quickly filling the hallway. I didn't think of staying to watch the aftermath though, I continued running like there was no tomorrow, racing up the steps and around the banister, and out into balcony.