The walls were fading away, the lights were distorted, his head was light as a feather. He felt like in a dream, yet his eyes were wide open.

The core took its toll on those who ventured too deeply. No matter the circumstances, motives or experience all paid his toll.

He looked up, the roof was no more, it was replaced by a black void that reflected his figure, a dirty, bloody, weak figure.

He was going insane.

How long it would take to reach an hospital? Or even meet another person? Days, weeks, months? How many ammunitions had he? How many bullets does it take to kill one of them? Twenty? Thirty? Was even possible to kill one of them?

He tried to stand up but his legs were too sore. He fell flat to the ground, breaking its nose. He was unable to move, his energies had left him. His nose bugun bleeding quite profusely.

A miserable end to a miserable life.

In those minutes that felt like eternities, his mind begun to wander far. He saw again his parents, it’s friends, it’s house. He began reconstruct his life mentally, drawing an outline, going through each event.

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A metal scrape pulled out of this trance. Something was coming.

The sound was coming closer, it was little and moved fast. Judging from its cadence it had probably more than two legs, it was just around two or three corners from his position.

He quickly pulled out his rifle. Judging from its speed he would have around one, at max, two seconds, to kill that thing before it reached his troath.

He held his breath. Paused. The sound was closer and closer, just a few moments more.

His sweaty fingers slipped on the trigger. An atrocious scream echoed through the halls. He didn’t saw it. He had shot too early. He had wasted precious ammo.

How could a creature reach his position? He remembered that there was a bifurcation behind him, that thing might ambush him from behind...or from a corner...or from the front...or...

He stood up despite the heavy headache and hallucinations, the best strategy was to find a dead end and wait for it there.

...

But what if the creature simply went away? What if he was just paranoid? What if that was just a stupid rat? What if it was not?

He carefully walked and checked every corner. The sweat dripping from his forehead was mixing with the blood of its nose, his heart was beating like it never did before. Memory begun playing tricks with him, a few times he had to stop and remember how to shoot or reload.

He had to act despite his feelings and doubts.