Author Note: Regular, prompt updates are not my forte. My apologies. And to make it worse, this is just a quick update to see if anyone's still interested. If there are reviews, updates will continue. If not, thanks for everything so far guys. I'm just a bum lol.

It had taken all her remaining strength to stagger into the bedroom and keel over onto a half-made double bed. Whoever owned this flat was a slob. 'Definitely male,' she thought, wrinkling her nose halfheartedly as she thought of how long ago the flat was probably cleaned. 'Not that I'm a much better housekeeper.'

Claire stayed like that for a while, listening to her quickened pulse beating at her collarbone, catching the smell of the dirty flat with every intake of air. She remembered the thread-bare couch, the old sink in the bathroom... this flat clearly did not belong to someone with a lot of money.

'Get up... get moving...'

But it was so much easier to stay where she was, unmoving. Sleep. Recover. Like Chris had advised her to. There was no strength left in her, just a lethargic desire to waste away on the smooth side of a stranger's bed.

And like that she would have stayed, if it had not been for the sudden crash and tinkling of glass that alerted her she was not alone.

Her eyes flew open, vision obscured by the maroon sheets. The bedding bunched against her right side, where a waking sleeper had irritably thrown them off himself in the morning. Quietly, she put her right hand on the wad of sheets and pushed herself up in one fluid movement. She was rewarded with dark vision, like black static was interfering with the message her eyes were delivering to her brain. It lasted for over ten terrifying seconds, and when it cleared her skin was tingling and she felt shaky again.

Over exertion? Damnit I'm getting old already...

Claire stayed, sitting twisted round, on the bed for a long time. There were no more sounds from the main room of the apartment, and she caught herself wondering if it had been part of a dream. 'Bullshit,' she told herself with a quickly quelled spark of fear, 'windows don't just break themselves.' Something was out there in the lounge, something that wanted to kill her…

And which probably would, seeing as she could hardly stand without falling over.

Trying not to rustle the bedsheets, Claire sent her blue-eyed gaze darting frantically over the room, looking for anything that could be used as a weapon. The bedroom door moved, and she knew she had run out of time.

A long, black nose snaked through the small gap she had left between door and door-jamb, moving as slowly as all the imaginary monsters that had haunted Claire's early days. Then the rest of the head appeared.

Claire had been expecting the half-rotted face of a dog to show through that gap, but was faced with something worse. It reminded her, absurdly, of Templeton, the rat from Charlotte's Web, only it was much bigger. The creature did indeed look like a rat, with a pointed face, sharp small teeth and elephantine ears. It had deep set eyes, with long, shaggy brows above them. Their fathomless black caught sight of her.

For a while they stared at each other, then the rat lunged. With no other weapon, Claire reached to the nearby bed-side table, grabbed the cheap plastic table lamp and threw it with all her might at the thing in front of her. The lamp's plug wrenched from the socket, and it went flying across the room with the cord following behind like a bridal train.

She heard it make impact, but didn't wait to see her handiwork. On jelly-legs, she half-wobbled, half-ran out of the bedroom, slammed the door shut and ran to the exit of the apartment. She pulled and pushed alternatively on the handle, trying to get it to open, remembering only too late that her brother had locked it before leaving. She tried to turn the small locking mechanism set in the handle, but her fingers were clumsy with a gripping fear she thought she'd forgotten long ago.

Shuddering crashes came from the bedroom door as the rat threw itself against the old wood. As the door came free and the angry creature burst into the lounge, Claire's fingers found their old strength, quickly twisted the lock and handle and then turning the lock-switch back as she dashed past the door and slammed it shut.

Just in time.

Shaking, she stepped backwards away from the door. Renewed thumps sounded as the rat began a new assault.

"Jesus," she murmured quietly. She paused to gather her strength, apprehensively watching the door rattle on its hinges. She couldn't stay here. She would have to run, flee, dash, hide.

Find Chris.

Get the Hell out of here.

"I knew I hated Charlotte's web," muttered Claire. Her legs wobbled under her, partly with fatigue and partly with apprehension, as she made her way cautiously to the exit sign.

AUTHOR NOTE: a big shout out to:

Vanerek Garland

Synch14

Sci-Fi-Reader

Zarbok

Frosta (yes, it is supposed to be post CV)

Nicky Carter Wesker (thanks for reminding me fanfiction existed!)

Shakahnna (thanks for reminding me too! You're a goddess)

I LOVE YOU ALL AND YOU ARE TEH AWESOMEST. Here, have a cookie