John awoke groaning, his sleep was intermixed with nightmares, compounded by his terrible sleeping arrangements. With a sigh he rested his head back down onto the pillow, he didn't want to get up today. Both by disrupted sleep and by fear of the creature.
He looked at his watch and noted that he missed several of his alarms, it was already 11:02 am. What could I possibly do today? I got food for two weeks, water for three, I could just stay in here.
This new idea started seeming more and more appealing in his head, but as he lay there, the moments going by, he checked his watch again. 11:05 am.
Ugh, I wish I could just skip time, I will have nothing to do for several days, in this small room.
This was indeed true, John lacked any form of entertainment, a complete foresight as he was intent on food and supplies, but forgot the need to fill gaps in his schedule. John leant over and grabbed his pen, twirling it as he also fished through the pile of belongings and gear for his notebook. He drew up some matrices and started noting down his supplies, starting with the canned goods and water.
After a good hour and a quarter of noting things down and calculating nutrition information, alongside rough estimates of his intake, he concluded that he would have enough food for fifteen days and water for twenty-one. He smiled to himself proudly, having drawn the maths from the classes he generally flunked in high school, however, it started to fade when he realised he burnt up the only task that he could do.
Maybe I should do a diary? Keep things in chronological order, so I can refer to them in the future, and so others after me could too.
But that last statement didn't sit well, he didn't want to think about the implications of someone finding his diary without him being present to tell instead...
With that he stood up, body complaining a bit with a few creaks, stretching and popping his knuckles. He was going to go stir crazy if he sat here, he was never good at sitting still anyway, so this was quite bad for him. Maybe if I sneak to the library next door, I can find a good book or something? Maybe.
John wanted to air on the side of caution, but being cooped up might not fair well either, really he just wanted an excuse to go outside, despite the harrowing encounter from yesterday. With that he stood up, did his daily routine, dry shower and teeth, scoffed down a tin of chilli tuna and put on a new pair of clothes, however, this sparked a new thought. How the hell am I going to wash dirty laundry? With that, John let out an inaudible groan and slumped back in bed. That was indeed going to be an issue, he needed to watch his sanitation and prevent fungal infections and sickness.
Stuff it, issue for another day, I got plenty of fishing shirts. Once more John stood up with hast and stepped outside the door before another issue came to mind, before taking on a stealth-focused stance and carefully walking outside. He winced with every second step, his food was still tender from the cut, so he did his best to tread lightly. He turned left outside the door and crept over the footpath into the car park of the conveniently placed library. There were only 3 cars, a small yellow sedan and two grey SUVs, and no bodies either which was a plus. He made his way to the couple steps to the brown wooden door, he hesitated as he tested the handle, it didn't move to cause him to tense as it made a slight clunk sound, metal on metal. However this was too quiet to be heard from far, so John changed his strategy, he looked around at the windows, non were open. He was about ready to give up and try and find a backdoor, but he instead carefully stood up on the railings of the steps to look into the windows from a higher perspective, seeing a bronze latch on the closest window.
Wait... They aren't locked, just a latch on the frame, which might be in a recess on the window itself, these are old windows, and I can clearly see a gap. Maybe something can go between...
A word came to mind for John, shim, and there was a lightbulb moment and he made an exasperated expression to no one. He tried to temper his excitement as he quickly crept back home, rounding the corner, slipping in the front door and eventually to his room.
In a single swift motion, he grabbed an empty water bottle that lay on the ground, pushed back through the door to the kitchen and searched the drawers, finding a suitably sharp knife. He did his best not to crinkle the bottle and create noise, he slipped the knife in, and cut both the top and bottom off, leaving a 5cm ring from the centre, before slicing it into a long, curved rectangle of plastic. What he had now was a crude shim, he cursed himself for thinking like such a criminal, bad people he used to hang out with indeed.
He dashed back outside, back to the library before stopping at the chin-height window, presenting his shim, he slipped it in the gap in the centre of the window. It curving upwards and pressing against the latch, he spent a few minutes trying to visualise the latch in his head, trying different motions with the shim, trying to almost credit card swipe it. He started feeling like he guessed wrong with the whole latch, recess theory until he noticed the shim was further in than what it normally was. It should have been stopped by the latch already, unless...
He strained, using both hands to push the window, it suddenly budging and sliding upwards on its wooden rails. John was ecstatic as he fully pushed the window upwards, with two unsteady grips, he hoisted his body up until he dangled, head poking through the opaque curtains, seeing the dark room that lay before him, and the clear wooden floor below him. He silently pulled himself through and landed on the floor, catching his breath from the unexpected, but successful feat.
John roamed around the few small shelves and desks, finding old books, textbooks and whatever else. He picked up a book on 20th-century philosophy, by an interesting Portuguese fellow, an action thriller based in Russia's metropolis system and finally another action-thriller novel, this time about a vampire apocalypse. These books would be a start, hopefully he could get immersed in them enough to pass a few days, and or lighten the mood.
He carried the books as he walked around, eventually stumbling across the video and CD section, this was interesting to John, as it had a pretty good selection of audiobooks, even some notable movie titles, however, he lacked the CD and or DVD player to use them. He also noted that using such an audio-based medium would be a surefire way of getting killed, sound was the last thing he needed.
He dodged some fallen chess pieces in the small carpeted section, and with that, he turned back, not seeing anything of notable use, he slowly approached the front door, carefully twisting the deadbolt, it quickly clunking open, and flicking the brass switch over underneath, unlocking the door fully. John enjoyed the charm of old hand-crafted mechanisms, he definitely would be coming back.
He walked out, noticing the slight orange rays that cast overhead, realising he spent quite a while in there, he set off back home with his newfound source of entertainment. He hoped he could ration out and last for a good few days, to buy some time so he would feel comfortable enough scouting again.
As he arrived home, he kicked off his socks, slumped in bed and randomly selected a book, it being Russian sci-fi. He got comfortable and started reading, getting engrossed in it as the hours flew by.
Days ticked over, John had read the first novel and started the second, however, he was the only one in this town content with being indoors.
Meanwhile, the creature continued its vigilant watch from the windowsill, having changed positions minimally to ensure maximum comfort. Despite its intentions, the creature had failed to hear any sound from John for three whole days, leaving it deeply frustrated. It pondered its next move, unsure of how to provoke the human into making noise. In a moment of frustration, it lashed out, hitting the nightstand next to the bed with force, sending it flying across the room. The creature quickly regained its composure, reminding itself that patience was crucial in its relentless pursuit.
Yet, as the days passed, the creature's unease grew. It contemplated the possibility that the human might have left town without its knowledge, which meant this would of all been for nothing. Doubt gnawed at the creature's instincts, but it did its best to remain firm. It remained on high alert for days straight, its segmented faceplates still and focused, waiting for any hint of movement or sound that would give away John's presence.
However, the creature was growing stiff and was needing a walk, standing up, creaks sounding from its joints as it stretched, extending its disturbing proportions before making its way downstairs. It decided to go back to investigate the fuel station where it first encountered the human, in hopes of finding any clues, and getting some movement as it was feeling the effects of sitting near perfectly still for now the 4th day.
The creature slipped out of the house and started its walk to the town, careful on creating any noise, while being on full alert for any presence other than its own. The creature passed the cafe-unaware that this was where John was residing this entire time, stepping over bodies and glass, attempting to be quiet so to not alert John if he was hiding nearby. However, this made the creature snort at the irony of this.
The creature was purposely being quiet and vigilant, exactly what the human is trying to do as well, albeit for different reasons, but the creature still felt the frustration. But it refrained from any lashing out on unsuspecting objects and kept its careful walk to the fuel station. There it hoped to find answers.
The creature arrived at the fuel station after a few minutes, it quietly stepped through the broken window and began its second take on the scene. It scanned through the aisles, unsure of what to look for exactly, but it did its best to be thorough.
However as it was searching, it passed the backdoor and noticed something different. It sounded different, the creature went inside and there it found why. The creature had not known there was a door that led to the fridges, it carefully crept closer, taking in details until it stepped in something strange. John's blood.
The creature smiled devilishly, the human was hurt, and he was so very close to catching him the first time around, he would certainly get him a second time. Invigorated, the creature crept back to its hiding spot, feeling determined to wait out the human. He must be deeply afraid, certainly feeling the pressure, he cannot outlast me.
John indeed was feeling the pressure, but that is because he reached the climax of the book he was currently on, it was about vampires and inspired the whole zombie trope in films. John had entirely forgotten that he was being stalked by the creature and simply was enjoying the books he snagged from the library. He finished two so far, given his practically unlimited free time, so his only worry was the fate of the protagonist of the current book, and if he would eventually run out of books. John giggled quietly, "What would a Mohammedan vampire do if faced with a cross?" he pondered for a moment as he read quietly to himself, "Probably shrug it off! These aren't real Vampires! Vampires are fictional, and they simply believe they are ones." Though this stopped John in his tracks, "But wait, I am reading fiction, so they are fictional vampires believing they are fictional vampires! Crap fiction-ception!"