AN: This isn't meant to make sense. It was just a half-assed attempt to write that scene out.Things like "dragdragging," lack of commas, and run-on sentences are intentional. Any incoherence intended. This is incredibly short, by the way.
He remembered running down a hallway. A hallway with zig-zagging turns and hopelessly long stretches of nothing. She had always been behind him. Always. Always just a few steps behind, panting and gasping for breath but keeping up nonetheless. That thing with the pyramid helmet was behind them. Chasing them like a bloodhound chases its quarry, only twice as determined. Twice as terrifying because it was running instead of lumbering after them slowly and dragdragging a knife too insane to be real. Running because the improbable murder tool had been switched with a spear. Spears were just as deadly, but lightweight.
There had been an elevator at the end of one of the hopelessly long stretches of nothing. Slowly closing. So horribly slowly that he felt like those closing doors were a hand around his heart, slowly crushing it between determined fingers. Bleeding him dry. No. No, he had made it. But only just. Had only just managed to stumble into the elevator while letting out a breath that he hadn't known he was holding.
But there was no Maria. No Maria next to him in the only exit out of that place. And the doors were closing. Closing so fast now. Much faster than before. He had tried to pry them back open, he had almost split open his fingers in his attempt to keep them open for her. But she had been too slow. It hadn't made sense, she had been right there -- right behind him. What had happened? Had the hallway swollen in size as he entered the elevator -- angry that he had gotten away but determined to get at least one victim?
She had cried out for him to open the doors. He had tried. Tried sososo hard. It hadn't worked. Only her hand had gotten into the elevator before that thing caught up to her and pierced her body with that spear. Ripping through organs and flesh and cloth like they were paper. Except paper didn't bleed so much. No, no. Paper didn't bleed. But people did. Bled so much. Into the elevator, thick, sloppy pools of blood sliding and dripping from the spear and her body into the elevator but mostly into the hallway.
Had she screamed? He didn't remember. Only remembered being so shocked that he had stumbled backward with a pathetic whimper as the elevator doors finally closed. Barring him from the only reasonable companionship in the town. After the doors had closed, he had sat down with his back against them. Feeling entirely too useless for his liking. Feeling like he had failed because he was too powerless to do anything but lose. Feeling oddly like he had let down his Mary all over again.
But that just didn't make sense.