As she neared the corner of Neely and Katz, she heard the footsteps. But they weren't the sluggish, dragging gait of the church monster; these were the soft, quick steps of a child. Her stomach clenched and she took off towards the sound.
Praying.
She passed Neely's Bar on her right and a run down hovel claiming to be the Grand market, before a small figure appeared, blond head of hair bobbing in the fog. Toby? She pushed the notion away, chiding herself for her foolishness; he was safe at home with her father and Karen.
"Hey wait," she called out, hurrying to catch up to him.
The boy looked back at her, blue eyes narrowed, brow wrinkled with worry. His skin was pale but rosy and his cheeks were plump. He was definitely not Toby, she realized, taking in his dirty torn jeans and wrinkled Robbie the Rabbit t-shirt. He couldn't be older than six or seven while Toby had just turned ten.
The boy let out a terrified shriek and stumbled. Sarah tensed, her fingers twitching around the trigger as she turned, convinced another weird beast was at her heels. She was met with nothing but fog, and as she turned back to the boy, is eyes were locked on her, on the gun in her hand.
"No, wait," she said, tucking it into her coat pocket, "I won't hurt you. I-"
He scrambled between the Lucky Jade restaurant and the Pet center, the narrow passageway barely wide enough for his small frame to pass. She stopped short. The space was much too narrow for anyone else to follow.
"Please, I need your help," she pleaded, "My name is Sarah. I just want to talk to you."
He squeezed his way through the narrow pathway and other the other side, pausing long enough to give her one, long measured look before he disappeared around the corner.
She slammed her fist against the wall.
"Damn it," she cursed, "I just want to talk to you!"
But he was gone, a row of buildings blocking the way. Still, she could just go through one of the buildings and out the back door. Remembering the threat of wild dogs, she decided against the Pet Center and turned her attention to the door to the Lucky Jade restaurant. It was a dirty, unrecognizable color, stained with brown and heavy black marks. The door knob was rusted, but as she reached for it, the door swung open, creaking on weary hinges.
Inside was darkness, the scent of mildew, musty and overpowering. She grabbed the flashlight, flipping it on and angling it to hit the opposite wall. There were no windows, but there was one, lone door leading to what she assumed was a kitchen. The floor sagged, small, dark puddles of liquid stagnating in the low places. Tables and chairs were strewn across the room, bent, broken, and even some rusting in the puddles. Among the chaos were the shattered fragments of dinner plates and coffee cups and even a few knives, forks, and spoons.
Carefully stepping over the thresh hold and a porcelain salt or pepper shaker, she set one foot down on the sagging floor. The wood moaned a protest, but remarkably, held her weight. Slowly, she eased herself into the room and slowly picked a path through the debris. The light of the flashlight did little to aid her journey, providing the minimal illumination, though it did grant her a moment's relief as it shone onto the kitchen floor, which proved an almost shocking contrast to the floor on which she was presently standing.
The kitchen floor was white, pristine, with no damage, no pools of liquid, no broken plates. She relaxed, stepping firmly onto the dry, white tiles. One lonely window brightened the room, the glass panes dirty, beside it, the door and hopefully the way out. She took another step, in her haste to be free of the dank restaurant, stepping down hard with the force of her full weight.
The tile shattered beneath her heel, her foot sinking a millimeter. She froze, her stomach doing that familiar twitching thing it did just before something bad happened. The silence seemed to stretch on forever and then, the floor creaked, tiles cracking, shattering. She stumbled back a step, and at once, the floor was sliding out from under her; she was falling, hands clawing at the air, at the floor. Dust and pieces of wood and tile showered her as she hit the ground, sinking in fetid, dark water and muck. Her lungs, her muscles ached, but she had to force herself to stay still, letting the putrid liquid soak through her shoes, her coat, her pants. The smell, indescribable, made her gag as she fought to block up her nose, breathing through her mouth.
As the pain ebbed, she let herself move, carefully as she checked her arms and legs for damage. Nothing seemed broken, she decided as she bent to retrieve her flashlight. It had fallen into the muck, its light sparkling on something long and pale in the corner. Quickly, she wiped the flashlight on her coat and limped to the corner.
The thing was partially submerged in a pool of dark water, but as she angled the light, she recognized it as a slender bone, beside it a half decomposed skull, long, dark hair still clinging to the surface. She stumbled backwards, tripping as she moved and falling back into the muck. The flashlight tumbled free, splashing into another pool light dancing crazily across the walls.
The skull's empty eye sockets seemed to watch her; she knew how crazy that was, but she couldn't shake the feeling. As she scrambled to her feet, it seemed to follow her, waiting. Again, she grabbed the flashlight, searching for the way out, but the walls were smooth and gray. No windows, no doors, no crumbling spots or cracks or any point that could be broken away for an escape.
She backed into the center of the room, looking up through the hole in the ceiling. It was the only way out. No one knew she was here, except for the frightened boy, and who would think to look for her before Monday? A chill settled over the room.