Writing Prompt: "Half of the names on the list were already crossed off"
Note: These are little writing prompts to exercise my writing. There is very little editing and is written within the span of an hour.
Knock. Knock. Knock. My breath catches in my throat as my lungs scream for air. I can't make a sound. Not now. No matter how much I need to breathe, how much I want to cry, or how much I want to run. I. Need. To. Be. Silent.
Knock. Knock. The creature rasped its bony knuckles along the concrete walls outside the cell I had scrambled into moments before. Each knock releasing a hollow rap of bare bone on stone, giving off little sound, but with each tap it grew nearer. I had been lost in this maze of a prison, unsure of where everyone was but the crimson stains I glimpsed at moments before did not bare good news.
My back was pressed hard against the concrete in this abandoned cell as I willed myself to stop shaking, keeping my head low as I bit my lip, forcing myself not to whimper. For once in my long sentence here I wished for the cell door to close.
Knock. Knock. Knock. My mind scrambles to make sense of what I had seen moments before as the unsteady footsteps of whatever the hell it was lumbered closer. I clasp my cross that dangled around my neck tightly in my right hand as I imagined the pale figure with no clothing, spangly exaggerated limbs, and tight skin pulled over what used to be eye sockets. There was no hair on its body and it had no genitals, but there were large flaps of pale skin stretched tightly over bones that sprawled from its back like wings. It can't see, but it can hear.
Knock...Knock...Click. It's right outside my cell now, its knocking slowed and the footsteps ceased directly on the other side of the cement wall my back was pressed hard against. My heart thundered in my chest, so loud, I was certain it could hear it. I close my eyes, my grip on my cross tightening as my chin hugs my chest and listened.
For what seemed like hours I waited, neither it nor I made a sound. Each breath I took too slow to satisfy my aching lungs, but I couldn't risk the noise. Eventually, with each beat of my heart, my impatience and curiosity grew. Hoping it to be gone, I carefully moved along the wall, making sure each of my movements made no sound as I slowly peered around the bars of the cell and into the well-lit, drab hallway.
Mistake. The moment my eyes met it, I knew my move was a mistake. There it sat, his long-bony hands pressed flatly up against the cement wall not a foot down the hall from me. It held the side of its head against the cold stone, listening for me on the other side. Upon its leathery skin on its upper arm, were self-inflicted slashes in its flesh, but no blood leaked from its wounds, only grey gaps in its thick skin. There appeared to be ink written on its flesh...names.
Martin Tanner, Jim Parsley, Jacob Lennerman...Murders...Rapists...My cellmates. Panic rushed through me at most of the names were crossed off, mine was next written on red ink on its rough canvas. A rush of panic filled me as I could no longer contain myself as I darted back into my cell. My fist, white knuckled, let go of my cross...causing it to swing freely. Causing it...to rattle. I saw the creature's head snap towards me as I fell back into my cell and pushed myself against the wall once more. My eyes wide as they locked onto the metal bars. I began to pant, to hyperventilate. I'm dead.
It hunts those who sin and I am a sinner.