Just Writing

I've had a hankering to get back into my creative writing, so to get the creativeness flowing again, I have written and embellished a scene from my dream. Yes, I had a dream about getting chased and vaulting over stairwell railings. That's what I get for reading creepy books at night before I go to bed. Not my best writing, but it will do for now. It's just getting started.


“Run!” A voice screamed at me, but I faltered. “Did you hear me, I SAID RUN!” My heart was racing and my mind was spinning. Apparently my brain couldn’t compute the simple command. I was stuck, hammered with shock, and gripped with fear.
Then the voice commanded me again. “Run or you’re dead, do you hear me?! Get out of here! GO!” The moment the word “dead” hit my ears, the connection sparked a reaction between my brain and my muscles. My feet connected with the cool tiled floor and I was off. I sprinted for the closest door and crashed into it just as I hear another deafening bang. And another. And another.
My heart began to pound so fast I thought it might explode inside my chest. But I knew what I had to do. I had to get out, or I would be next. This took all of two seconds to compute, and I was finished crashing through the door. It slammed behind me with another loud bang that made me jump and my skin crawl.
Concrete walls surrounded me, and a typical platformed staircase descended before me. I remembered I was on the tenth floor, so had at least twenty flights of stairs to haul over as fast as I could if I wanted to make it out alive. My feet began to make quick work of flying over the steps as fast as possibly without falling headfirst into a mouthful of concrete, which I readily decided wouldn’t be a much better alternative than getting popped in the head with a bullet.
I could hear my heart throbbing and racing with adrenaline, and I felt like the pressure would make my head explode. But I kept flying down the stairs. Suddenly, a loud bang registered against my eardrums. He was in the stairwell! I panicked, and tripped. I could hear him flying down the stairs after me. He was closing in, one floor behind me. Quickly I righted myself and continued my descent.
“Get back here!! You need to talk to me now! You’ll never get away!” The man seethed at me with a booming, sinister voice as we crashed down the stairs in a life or death race. He was now only one flight of stairs away from me, and my tactic clearly wasn’t working. He was faster than me and would soon catch up. I still had five floors to cover before I was out in the open, assuming he didn’t have men waiting on the outside. I had to try something risky if I had a chance of making it out. It could end badly, but wouldn’t it end badly anyway if I didn’t try it?
In a split second I made the decision, grabbed the railing to my left, and hauled myself up and over the rail with as much force as I could, and dropped down to the next flight. My foot slipped on the landing, and the concrete greeted me with a sharp pain that shot from my heels up to my knees. I grunted, and gained my balance, then placed my hands on the next rail and copied the maneuver, trying to soften my next landing on the flight below. With my luck, I would probably break a leg doing this, but I had to try.
The adrenaline coursing through my veins propelled me forward as I vaulted myself over the stair case railings in this death match race to the bottom door, and, hopefully, out of the building and into the clear.
My pursuer was not lost on my move, and I was not gaining much ground. He quickly picked up his pace, and I could see his black trench coat swirling around him like smoke swirling around a fire. He kept shouting after me, but my heart pounding in my ears began to overpower his screams, and my ragged breath came up for a close second.
I pulled hard at the air, trying to fill my burning lungs with oxygen. If I could just make it to the door, I kept thinking, trying to push my body to the limit to survive. My ankles began to scream back at me in pain every time I landed on the flight below, and the shooting pain traveled up my knees and into my spine. How much longer? I should be there by now!
Suddenly, my heart was filled with hope. The door was half a flight down. Only one more railing to- CRASH! I looked above me and my attacker had followed my method and thrown himself over the rail, and putting him only one flight away from me. He was quickly readying himself to leap over the next rail. We both jumped at the same time, and my feet connected with flat concrete. I heard a soft crack in my left ankle, and the pain intensified. The man was also only half a flight away from me.
A grey metal door lay directly ten paces ahead, I could reach it in maybe seven if I sprinted and my ankle would hold out. The dull hunk of metal quickly became my beacon of hope and I took off towards it, flying at the crash bar full speed. In eight paces, my ankle screaming, my lungs about to burst and my heart ready to explode, I hurtled myself into the door and made contact.
I flew out and kept on running, tears streaking down my face and a silent scream building in my lungs. The silence was quickly broken by my ear splitting scream, which was as much to let out all of the building emotion and rage as it was to trigger or alert anyone to help me. All I could do was keep running. I didn’t look back, I didn’t stop. I kept running.
Run or you're dead. The words began to haunt me every step I took. Was this the end?