The first door was jammed and the second locked, figures. The radio's hissing had grown loud. Tim looked nervously into the dark and clicked the radio off. He held his wooden board out cautiously. He was nearly blind in the dark and helpless without the radio but he had to keep moving. The light attracts them. Loud sounds attract them. So this was the way it had to be.
A soft clicking filled the air and Tim knew, without a doubt, that something had seen him. He had been moving slowly, hoping that his eyes would adjust to the lightless hall. There was a gurgling sound, like someone trying to breath through a slashed neck. Tim bolted, slamming shoulders with the Straight Jacket monster. The next door was unlocked and Tim swore as he was blinded by a bright light. The door behind him was shut and held by his entire weight and like hell he was leaving just yet. The monster outside screamed and he felt more than heard it slam against the door, but with no hands to speak of there was no way it was getting in.
Tim closed his eyes against the harsh light and listened for the shuffling of feet and soft clicking to fade as the creature gave up on chasing him. Soon there was only the sound of his own racing heart and shaking breaths to accompany him and Tim's resolve to keep the radio off shattered. The static was soft and almost soothing. There was nothing here. Nothing would hurt him here.
Shielding his eyes against the light he looked around the apartment as best he could. There were mannequins, or at least pieces of them scattered around the small living area. Tim had what he would call a healthy dislike of mannequins. No one really liked them, really, and after one came to life when he was five and started following him relentlessly- well you couldn't blame him.
He was delaying the inevitable again, he knew it. He would have to take the light and continue his search. Tim knew he wasn't a brave man, he'd never claimed to be. If the fact that he'd ran from Jessica as soon as he reasonably could didn't show it he didn't know what did. He was a coward. With a steadying breath Tim reached out and grabbed the only source of light in the apartment, the clip flashlight attached to a plain brown hoodie on a dressform standing center stage.
The radio roared to life as the armless display mannequin seated on the couch before him lurched to the side. On unsteady legs it stood, six feet of smooth featureless plastic. Until it wasn't featureless. Across the face eyes began to open, down the neck and body and legs. Winking and blinking and staring. Dozens of eyes all trained on him and his flashlight.
Tim screamed. And screamed. And didn't stop screaming until he sent the thing's head sailing off it's shoulders with a swing of his plank. The thing dropped like a dead weight and twitched once, twice, then it was still.
Time to go. There was nothing in this world or the next that could get him to stay in the same room as that thing. He'd take the Straight Jackets over them. Hell, he'd take The Operator over them.
Charging through the door and down the hall, dodging two Straight Jackets on the way he made a beeline for the stairs. He all but flew down the flight of stairs, hitting the front door of the complex with a grunt. Once Tim had made it outside he doubled over, leaning against his knees and the closed door for support. "I can't do this." he whimpered. It was pathetic and he knew it but he just… Jay would understand wouldn't he? One monster had been hard enough for the two of them to handle together.
Jay.
Tim pulled out his phone and opened the voicemail. He clicked play and let Jay's voice, shaking with fear and exertion, play into the quiet courtyard. He didn't hear the words, he didn't have to he'd heard them plenty of times before. "I keep getting attacked," Fuck, "help me," FUCK.
Tim growled in anger, at himself or the creatures standing between him and his friend he didn't know. (Yes he did, he just refused to admit it.) Between here and wherever Jay was there would be plenty of monsters. Hundreds probably. But Jay was counting on him. Jay needed him and he was not going to let him down again.
So Tim ran a hand through his hair, straightened his back, and walked back into the apartments. "For Jay." he whispered.
He never saw the figure standing just down the street watching him through the chain link fence. Not that they wanted Tim to see them. The desperately wanted him to not see them. They would be no help if he did. Not yet. So the shadow faded back into the fog, watching, waiting, until it was time.