Six was not a morning person. To be fair, she wasn't much of an evening person either. Not only did it take her forever to properly wake up, to wipe the grogginess from her mind, but she also had to leave the worry free environment that sleep brought. She wasn't worried about death when she was asleep.
Meanwhile, in the evening, as she drifted off the dreamland, she had to worry about something killing her in her sleep. It was a bit strange to think about, in reality. Worrying about something killing her in her sleep before she fell asleep, and not worrying at all when she was asleep.
Truth is, she should worry at all times. But that became exhausting, fast. Sleep was her only reprieve from such a thing, as fleeting as it was, so she hated to leave it. But she knew she couldn't remain asleep forever, not unless she was dead, and she had no intention of dying any time soon.
So with a groan, she roused herself from her slumber, the light from the small window not allowing her to rest any longer. Standing up from the hidden bed she made herself, one cut from a teddy bear turned into a sleeping bag, she gazed listlessly at the room around her.
Like almost everything in this mansion, it made little to no sense. Too tall, and too narrow, with the only entrance being a small hole. How they managed to get a bed, table, and a whole vanity inside was a mystery for another time.
In the corner was a massive fan. Six may have plugged it in, if only to freshen the stale air in the room, but there was no plug outlet to be found. It was probably broken anyway. A burnt out light rested on the ceiling.
It was a fairly secure room, made more so by Six barricading herself inside, using planks of rotten wood and a rather heavy chair. It was a bit difficult to move, but worth it for the added security. No need to risk someone sneaking in while she slept.
Or something.
The large Residents may not have been able to get in, but that didn't mean she was safe. Far from it, in fact. The mansion she found herself trapped in had rather large rats after all. Nearly as big as herself, and twice as mean. More than one kid has fallen victim to those things, and she refused to be another.
Other children could also prove to be problematic. This place had a way of bringing out the worst in someone. Their desperation for survival turning them into something violent.
The only other things that could reach her in here, the Nomes, were also the only things she could trust. They were strange little things, with white cone heads and small, gray, shriveled bodies. Six was afraid of them at first, avoiding them whenever possible, but it turns out they were rather friendly.
And helpful. They seemed almost eager to provide aid whenever they could. But they were just as skittish, and easily frightened. They wouldn't help until you gained their trust, usually by hugging them, proving you meant them no harm.
Six found herself fond of them over time. Seeing them scurry about, making quiet little noises, bodies moving in exaggerated ways, always brought a small smile to her face. It was about the only thing that did nowadays.
So even if the room was hard to get to, she couldn't let her guard down. Which is why she cocooned herself inside an old teddy bear. It wasn't the best, or perhaps even the safest solution, but it worked well enough. It hid both her and her scent.
But it was time to move on. She had been using this place as a base for a while now, but if she stayed any longer, she risked getting complacent. And complacency killed. She knew that for a fact.
So she had to say goodbye to her little home. Perhaps she would return someday, if she was unlucky that is. She hoped to escape this hellish mansion, and she couldn't linger in one place for too long if she wanted to realize that goal.
So she would head to a lower area, one filled with far more danger than the rooms above. There were more pests for one, and the Residents of this house spent far more time down below.
But it was a risk she needed to take. There was no other option if she wanted to escape. And she did, desperately. The things they did to children that got caught… well it was best to not get caught.
Because it wouldn't be quick.
She carefully moved the chair out of the way, wincing at the loud noise it made as she did so. But she had no choice but to drag it along. It was far too heavy to lift. It made for an excellent barrier to entry, but it was an annoyance all the same.
Heaving the thing out of the way, she caught her breath for a moment, before setting herself to move the planks. But before she could, a loud noise grabbed her attention. The house shook from the violent impact of something.
What was that? Did something crash into the mansion? How? It was nearly a mile above sea level. Was it a plane?
Her curiosity peaked. Something slamming into this place was not an event that happened on the regular, so it was worth investigating. It was even possible there was a new means of escape, one not available until now. But she dared not get her hopes up. Hope was a dreadful thing, after all. More people had been broken by hope than by anything this place did to them.
But still, no harm in taking a little peak. That wasn't entirely true, she knew that. There could be great harm in it. But it was a risk she felt compelled to take. She had focused solely on survival for so long, that little else mattered to her, so perhaps that was the reason, the real one, she wanted to sate her curiosity. It was something other than merely surviving.
There was a difference between simply being alive, and living after all, and Six had forgotten how to live. Something quite sad coming from an eight year old.
Besides, it wasn't too far from where she was at. It was a little detour, nothing more. Convinced by her own logic, she set out to find the source of that strange new sound.
She never expected that by doing so, she would meet a lifelong companion and friend. One that would stick with her through the best of times and the worst of times. And there would be a lot of worst times ahead.
***Line Break***
Harry opened his eyes, once more gazing at his surroundings in confusion, something that was becoming a pattern. One thing he noticed was that he was no longer flying.
That was good. He had been skybound for about a day and was starting to worry. As much as he enjoyed being in the air, he needed food and water, something he couldn't get trapped in a wicker basket.
Getting to his feet, said basket shifted, forcing him to try and keep his balance. He couldn't see much from where he was, the basket was too big, but he could definitely see he was in a building of some sort.
A building he happened to crash into. You couldn't blame him, he had no idea how to fly a hot air balloon, so a crash landing was all but inevitable. He only hoped the owner wouldn't be too mad. He couldn't afford to pay for damages.
If this world even used currency. Part of him hoped it didn't, having had to listen to his uncle complain about finances constantly, and blame him for the economic burden he placed on the family. If he needed money, it would just be one more thing to worry about.
Wanting to see the rest of his surroundings, Harry made a leap to grab the top of the basket. He succeeded, which was good. However, the ropes holding the basket to the balloon weakened in the crash, so when he grabbed the side, they unraveled and snapped, causing the basket to collapse.
Harry rolled out of the basket and landed with a grunt. Thankfully, it wasn't a far drop, but it was still unpleasant. He was rather small after all. Rolling onto his back, Harry gazed up at his former vessel, dangling by the remaining ropes holding it together.
Ropes that were also coming undone.
With a yelp, he rolled out of the way, just as the basket hit the ground. "That was close," he thought, listening to the rapid beating of his heart. If he had been even a second slower, he would be trapped underneath. Once he calmed down, he maneuvered into a sitting position, finally able to take in his surroundings.
The room itself was drab, without an ounce of color. Faded wallpaper peeled off the wall, dangling from weathered wood. Old blankets, or maybe sheets, filled with moth-eaten holes were piled in a corner. An old dresser, covered in filth and stains, sat near the wall.
There wasn't much else to be seen, other than broken bits of things littering the floor. Most likely from the crash. Bits of rope dangled down from the remaining ceiling, covered in muck and grime. There was one thing that Harry didn't see, something he expected to see, something he thought was fairly important.
A door.
There was no way in or out of the room that he could see. He was lucky the crash opened up a wall and provided some light, otherwise he would be in the dark. But even so, he needed to find an escape of some kind.
Looking about, trying to take in more details, ripping off wallpaper, and looking under the sheets, Harry finally noticed a crack in the wall behind the dresser. It looked like it was just big enough for him to crawl through. That was good, it means he could escape. But whether it led to somewhere better was yet to be seen. Only one way to find out.
He first tried to move the dresser. It became apparent quite quickly that that wasn't going to work. With a huff, he stepped back to think of a solution. If it was too heavy, he just needed to lighten it, right?
It had three drawers, all scratched up with things scribbled on the side. A bird of some kind? With a round mouth and teeth? Weird, but not important.
He needed to remove the top one first, but of course, he couldn't reach it. But maybe, if he used the bottom ones as a step stool… Yeah, that should work.
He grabbed the bottom drawer, giving it a pull, but struggled to open it. It wasn't that it was heavy, not really, it was that it was old and rough, making it hard to slide. It could really use a good sanding.
Eventually his puny muscles won the day, and he managed to get it open enough to climb. Thankfully, it was empty and didn't break as he did so, only gave an angry groan as it was stepped on.
Then came the second drawer, which was much the same as the first. He opened it about halfway so he could use it as a foothold to remove the top drawer.
He opened the last one about a quarter, and quickly realized he wouldn't be able to remove it all from where he was standing. So, he climbed to the top of the dresser and used his legs to push it open. It was a bit awkward, and took him a minute to get the angle right, but he was eventually able to get it off.
It hit the floor with a loud thump. He winced at the noise, but here was little he could do about it. In retrospect, he could have used the sheets to create a cushion, but hindsight was 20/20. He just had to move on. Hopefully, nothing heard that.
***Line Break***
Six's ears twitched as she heard a heavy thud reverberating through the vents she was in. Just what was going on up there?
***Line Break***
He jumped down to the floor and moved the drawer out of the way, before sliding the bottom one off, and putting it to the side. Now he just needed to get the second one off, and he was home free. It was a bit difficult with the height, but he managed. The final drawer hit the ground with another, slightly less loud, thump.
Whipping the sweat off his brow, he took a moment to catch his breath, shaking the tension out of his arms. Once he felt sufficiently recovered, he made to move the dresser itself.
It was much lighter without the drawers attached, so he managed to move it out of the way with a bit of effort. But it was all worth it. The way out was in clear view. It was time to make his escape.
Crawling through the opening, Harry came out the other side and gazed out at his new surroundings. It was a long room, cluttered like a hoarders paradise. A few dirty windows lined one side of the room, allowing for a bit of light to penetrate the gloom.
Multiple metal shelves lined the other side of the room, filled to the brim with all manner of things. Broken toys, appliances, tools, stuffed animals, etc. There was too much to count.
The center of the room was similarly filled with shelves and knick knacks that branched into two paths. One didn't look much better than the other, except one side was closer to the light.
He chose that side.
Perhaps he could find something useful in here. New clothes perhaps? The oversized hand-me-down garments he received from his cousin really hindered his mobility. And they were just plain old embarrassing to wear.
The only reason he had to wear them at all was that his "family" didn't want to spend a few pounds to get him clothes that fit. It might not have been so bad, had his cousin not been the size of a baby whale. Even his baby clothes were big on Harry!
So yes, new clothes would be very nice. Fingers crossed.
As he walked further into the room, a couple of small creatures with white, cone-shaped heads scuttled away in fright.
"What were those things?" Harry whispered to himself after a while. He stood there, waiting for an attack that never came. After a couple of tense minutes, he relaxed his posture, and let his guard down.
Not completely. He just went from a 10 to an 8.
Walking deeper into the messy room, Harry kept an eye out for anything that looked useful. Or anything that looked even half as hungry as him.
So far, no such luck. Everything appeared broken, or useless. A diamond ring? Neat, but not at all helpful. A compass? Fantastic, spun in every direction. A filthy, ripped up teddy bear with black gunk coming out of the corner of its mouth? No thank you.
No, so far everything was worthless, even the clothes. The ones that would fit him had been eaten by moths, much like the blankets in the other room. Did they have a moth problem here? It was starting to look that way.
He also didn't see an exit. What is with this place and its aversion to doors? Looking around for another hole in the wall, he didn't see one. It would help if there was more light in the room, but the only source was those dirty windows. Harry spotted a few broken lightbulbs in the ceiling, their shattered remains creating a hazard on the floor, but that did little to help him.
He could find some new ones, but even then, he had no way of placing them into the sockets. Maybe he could scavenge a flashlight, one that works. That would be nice. The world seemed to agree with him, as the room suddenly became darker.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Looking at the windows, it was clear a dark cloud was overhead, blocking the sun and filling the room with even more shadows. That's great, just what he needed.
Grumbling to himself, he continued his search, never noticing a movement coming from the ceiling.
He was near the end of the room now, in a small open area with less clutter. It was still a mess, but it felt cleaner. He shivered thinking about how his aunt would react to a place like this. He knew she would make him clean it.
But still, there was nothing there. A broken vanity on one side and a… mannequin on the other. It was missing an arm and half the face was melted, drooping down like it was made of cheese. The dress it was wearing was filled with holes and covered in grime.
But the worst part was the mask. It looked like it was made of real skin, and it was peeled, and torn, dangling from the parts that weren't melted. Why would anybody want that thing? It was so creepy.
Not his business. Better to let sleeping dogs lie. He had more important things to do anyway. Like finding a way out. That was sounding better and better as he made his way through this place.
As he turned to walk away from the creepy thing, a glint caught his eye, barely visible through the dim lighting. There, in the mannequin's hand, was a metal… thing. It wasn't very big, easy enough for Harry to carry if he wanted.
But why would he? Something inside him told him to check it out, a compulsion that he couldn't ignore. He grabbed it and pulled it out of the thing's hand, half expecting it to come alive and eat him. It sure looked like it wanted to.
Taking a closer look at the object in his hand, and scrubbing away the scum that covered it, the first thing he noticed was the shape. It was an eye, made out of a dull, bronze like material, covered in scratches. The second was the eye's pupil, which looked like it was made out of an emerald. And lastly was the two, diamond shaped prongs sticking out on either side of the eye, about a quarter of an inch long.
It was a creepy thing, like most of the things in here, and yet he still pocketed it. Maybe it would come in handy down the road, or maybe not. It was his now regardless.
A noise caught his attention. It sounded like a can being kicked across the room, or falling from high up, and he suddenly had the feeling of being watched. Turning around, Harry tried to see what made that noise. It had to have been something. But the lack of light made things difficult.
Turning his head right and left, focusing his eyes as best he could, he finally spotted something. A big clump of shadow stood out from the rest. He didn't know what it was, but his gut was telling him it wasn't anything friendly.
Something on the clump's back twitched, moving up and down. It almost looked like wings. Harry backed up slowly, glancing around for someplace to escape. But with all the clutter, he was basically trapped.
As Harry backed away from the shadowy thing, it advanced as well. Slowly, its movements barely able to be seen. But no matter how much he backed up, it never got further away.
Unfortunately for Harry, things would take a turn for the worst. As he was backing up, he failed to spot something on the ground. Something that caused him to trip. Falling on his back with a startled grunt, that seemed to be the signal the thing was waiting for.
In the blink of an eye, it was airborne, ready to pounce on its next victim. Which just so happened to be Harry. This did allow him to see what it was, and he wished that he hadn't. It was a moth, one even bigger than himself, with clawed tips on its legs, and a circular mouth filled with needle-like teeth. Its massive, pearl black eyes stared at him in hunger.
It was like someone crossbred a moth with a lamprey, an abomination of nature.
Harry managed to roll out of the way as the thing landed, releasing a hissing sound as it did so. It turned to face the young boy, a long, round, saliva coated tongue wriggled out of its mouth as it did so.
Our hero backed away as much as he could, before he hit a shelf. He was trapped. The moth thing approached slowly, as if it was savoring the moment. That moment would cost it, as the sun chose that moment to reveal itself once more.
Smoke sizzled off its form as it jumped away, flapping its wings to escape the light. Harry watched as it reached a corner where the light didn't reach, turning back to stare at him balefully.
It was stymied for now. It couldn't leave its spot in fear of the sun. That gave Harry an opportunity to flee. The only question was, where to? He still didn't know where the exit was, and now he had to search the room with a killer moth on the loose?
That wasn't fair. That wasn't fair at all. He wished he knew who to complain to about the clearly rigged game. Maybe The Ferryman? Naw, best to leave that one alone.
Standing up on shaky legs, Harry watched as the moth paced back and forth, like a caged beast, occasionally trying its luck against the light, only to flinch back with another hiss as it was burned.
He wondered if it was responsible for the broken lights above. It seemed fairly likely that a thing that hated light, or the sun at the very least, would destroy them. Good for it, but it made Harry's job even harder.
He also realized that it was what was drawn onto the dresser from earlier. It occurred to Harry that maybe it was meant to be a warning.
Looking at the angry creature, Harry noticed the thing he tripped on. It was a hatch, like the one you'd see in an attic, with a ladder folded into it. That explains why he couldn't find another way out. That's one problem solved, but it revealed a whole new one.
It was locked. A thick, heavy padlock barred him from escape. Because of course it did. Things couldn't ever be simple, could they?
So now he needed a key, great. Well, as long as the sun continued to shine through the windows, he should be fine. But history would suggest his luck wasn't nearly that good. He needed to move, and move fast. He didn't see a key while searching on this side, so it had to be on the other.
Plan now set and goal made clear, Harry ran back around the way he came. It was unfortunate that the second path was quite a bit darker than the other, since the junk in the middle blocked the light. Nothing he could do about it though, he would just have to hope for the best.
He could still hear the moth hissing from its spot. That was a relief at any rate. As long as he could still hear its angry threats of violence, because Harry knew that's what those sounds were, he was in the clear. He knew where it was. If it went quiet, Harry would be in trouble.
More trouble.
Searching as quickly and thoroughly as he dared, while also keeping an eye on the light and an ear on the monster, Harry was at the halfway point, when it suddenly grew darker. A triumphant screech rang out, as the sound of flapping hit his ears.
Harry needed to hide, and fast. Frantically searching for something, anything to hide in, he eventually spotted a box filled with discarded fluff, the kind you put into stuffed animals.
It would have to do. If he was found, he would have no chance of escape. Willing to take the risk, Harry dove into the softness of his hiding spot. And not a moment too soon.
Flapping overhead, hungrily searching for its prey, passed the moth. Thankfully, it didn't see him dive into the box. That was good, it means he wasn't about to die this very second.
The seconds afterward were a different matter.
Harry waited with baited breath as the minutes ticked by. He could hear it in the distance, fluttering and hissing, searching for him. He watched for the sun to return from a small hole in the box, rotted out from water and time.
After nearly twenty minutes, the sunlight bathed the room once more, forcing the beast to seek shelter. It sounded like it was on the opposite side of the room, which was good, as it gave him time to continue his search.
Climbing out of the cardboard box, which caused it to tip over, taking Harry with it, he resumed his search. He still had nearly half the room to inspect, but he couldn't risk going too fast. He had to find the key on the first go round.
But no matter where he looked he couldn't find it. Up, down, all around, there was nothing. He hoped it wasn't stuffed in a random box somewhere, or even worse, in the moth's stomach.
His luck couldn't be that bad, right?
He was near the end of the second path when he finally spotted it. Nestled between a busted desk fan and a cat carrier, he could just make out its teeth sticking out over the edge.
That was the good news. The bad news, it was on the top shelf. He would have to climb, and there was little chance of him being able to hide again if the sun went away.
He also didn't know if it was even the right key. It was just the first one he found. For all he knew, it could open a door in the basement. He wouldn't put it past the world to screw with him like that.
But what other choice did he have? Try to kill the moth? That seemed unlikely. And far more dangerous than grabbing a key. And he would still be trapped in here. No, his best option was to climb.
So that's what he did. It was more difficult than he thought it would be. The shelves were too far apart to simply climb. He could stand up fully and still have some room. He needed to find other perches to grab onto, and that took time.
He got impatient at one point, and grabbed onto something that was too light to support his weight, and nearly tumbled back to the ground. Thankfully he managed to grapple the ledge and prevent himself from falling, but it was a close call.
Not to mention the moth most likely heard him, so it would know his general location. That wasn't good. He needed to hurry. The next time the lights went out, he likely wouldn't have time to hide.
Thankfully he managed to reach the top before that happened. There were some tense moments when a small cloud blocked the sun, but that lasted only a few seconds. But even in those few, brief moments, he heard the moth flapping its wings, heading in his direction. It came closer and closer every time.
Taking a moment to catch his breath, Harry gazed at his prize, a large, brass key. It was almost half his height, and as thick as his arms. That made it heavy, and Harry's rail thin arms protested the burden.
Luckily, he wouldn't need to go far. The hatch was on the other side of the shelf, only a few feet to the right. All he would have to do is give it a toss, and hope it didn't bounce too far away.
Unluckily, the sun chose that moment to disappear. Because of course it did. And here he thought he finally caught a lucky break. Well, he did, as he didn't have to carry the heavy key all the way around the room, but it sure didn't feel all that lucky when he now had a hungry monster coming to take a bite out of him.
And that's exactly what it was doing. Harry heard a triumphant screech as it headed for him. He had seconds before it was on him. No time to line up his shot, he just tossed the key down. He heard it hit the ground with a loud ring, as it bounced and skidded across the floor. Harry couldn't see where it went, and hoped for the best.
That was one problem solved, now for the next one. The moth. He could hear its rapid wing beats as it charged for him. He had to do something, but what? He was too close to freedom to give up now.
Looking around, he spotted something that gave him an idea. The cat carrier. It wasn't in the best of shape, but it would have to do. Hopefully, moths didn't know how to open them, otherwise, he was toast.
Crawling inside, he slammed the metal door shut and locked it. Just in time too. The moth landed with another hissing screech, long, slimy tongue swaying back and forth, twitching and drooling in excitement, like it was about to get something tasty.
Unfortunately, its meal was being difficult. Rather inconsiderate of him, in the moths opinion. It was rude to make a lady wait, didn't anyone teach him any manners? Oh well, she would just have to do it.
The moth approached the carrier, inspecting it, tapping it with its pointy clawed feet. It shook it next, hoping to break it, but it was proving to be fairly sturdy. Something that surprised both of them.
It was getting angry now, and the shaking became more violent. Harry held on for dear life, even as he saw the carrier start to break. That wasn't good. That wasn't good at all. It wouldn't take it very long now. Soon, it would break completely, and Harry would be a goner.
The moth seemed to realize this too, as it put even more force behind its assault. Boxes, toys and other things fell to the ground as they waltzed around the top shelf, in a vicious and brutal dance. The moth was a lousy dance partner, in Harry's opinion.
Then, suddenly, it stopped. Harry was grateful for the reprieve, as his head was pounding. He wondered why, knowing it couldn't be anything good. The sun was still hidden away, so that wasn't it. Just what was it planning?
He would soon find out. Sharp, pointy feet gripped the carrier, using the holes in the side for leverage. Then, Harry began to rise. That's when he figured out the moth's plan. It was going to drop him, like a hawk hunting a turtle.
Harry grabbed the feet, or whatever moths had, and tried to pry them off, before he got too high. But it was no use. It was just too strong. He remembered a documentary he saw once at school, about how ants could lift many times their own weight. While the moth wasn't an ant, clearly, it still reminded him of that fact.
Thankfully for Harry, the sun chose that moment to make a heroic appearance. Beams of light cascaded into the room, shouting "I am here!"
The moth screamed in pain, and dropped its load, retreating once again. Harry found himself free falling, a feeling of weightlessness and vertigo wreaking havoc on his insides. He would take that any day over the pain that would soon wreck his outsides.
Before the carrier could crash into the ground, it struck a wooden crate sticking partly out of the side. This would end up saving Harry, as it halted his momentum. It still hurt, but it wasn't a lethal pain.
The carrier crashed into the ground with a mighty roar, shattering to pieces. Harry slammed into the ground with enough force to bounce like a rubber ball, stopping several feet from the point of impact. Stars swam in front of his head, as he laid curled up on the floor in a fetal position, trying to stem the pain.
But it didn't work. His head hurt, his arms hurt, his legs hurt, his back hurt, his side hurt, everything hurt. That was easily one of the most painful things Harry has ever experienced. Being dropped from so high up was easily up there with his uncle's beatings.
If he hadn't hit that crate and before hitting the ground and slowing his momentum, he would have been dead for sure.
Slowly, the stabbing pain dulled into a limpid throb. It was uncomfortable, but manageable. He only hoped nothing was broken.
Managing to force himself to his knees, Harry looked around the area. His vision still swam a bit, but not enough to make him feel nauseous anymore. So that was a plus. He placed his hand on the floor to help him stand, the other holding his side.
As he did so, his hands brushed up against something. It was a flashlight. That made his eyes widen in hope. If it worked, he just might be able to make it out here after all. If it didn't…
Best not to think about that.
Forcing himself to his feet, he flicked the switch, and to his delight, a beam of light shot out, illuminating his path. Finally, something good happened. Turning it off, not wanting to waste the batteries, he slowly limped his way across the room.
He listened for the moth, but it was being silent at the moment. Something that put him on edge. The unknown tended to be scarier than the known. It made him wonder why he chose that.
Oh yeah, because the known put him back with the Dursleys. Yeah, the moth was better. At least it was honest about its desire to kill him.
Harry gripped the shelf with his hand as he stumbled a bit. He was at the end of the dark path, halfway there. Easy peasy. He just needed to catch his breath.
It was harder than he thought to get moving again. Every step hurt, and every breath came out harder than the last. But he had to keep moving. He was almost there.
It took an agonizingly long time, but eventually, he could see the hatch again. Perfect, now he just needed to find the key. He looked around, desperate. He was so close, if only he could find the-
Key! Harry nearly shouted in joy as he spotted it. It was halfway underneath a shelf, but that was fine. He found it at least. That was half the battle. Now it was time to win the war.
He hobbled faster than ever, before dropping to his knees and picking up the key. The very heavy key. He grunted as he stood up with it. It wasn't easy to hold both it and the flashlight, but he wasn't willing to part with either.
So he struggled on, brass prize in hand. It was less than 10 feet now. He was almost there. Any second now, and he would escape.
So of course the world took that moment to ruin his good mood. The lights coming in from the windows went out, one by one. He could see it happening in slow motion. Once again, he was about to be in near total darkness.
It should scare him, knowing he was about to be preyed upon once more. But it didn't. Not this time. This time, it made him angry.
"Are you kidding me!?" he shouted. Harry knew it wasn't the best decision to shout when something was hunting him, but he was fed up. The stupid light couldn't stay for another minute. Really?
Anger numbing the pain, he sped toward the exit, hearing the familiar sound of moth wings behind him. He tossed the key onto the hatch when he was close enough, then turned around and shone his flashlight right at the diving moth.
It screeched in pain as it crashed into the ground, before scuttling under the shelves. Good, now if only it stays there until he leaves. That would be fantastic.
Keeping the light focused on where the moth hid, Harry backed up to the hatch. He placed the light on the ground, still focused on the moth's hiding spot, and grabbed the key.
Heart pounding in his ears, he placed it into the lock. This was the moment of truth. Was it the right key, or was he doomed. He twisted it, and to his immense joy and relief, the padlock clicked open. He excitedly tossed it to the side, barely noticing the weight in his elation.
With that obstacle out of the way, he pushed the hatch open. Or tried to. It was stuck. Maybe it just needed some motivation? A kick or two should do the trick.
It seemed to work, as it opened an inch or two. With each subsequent kick, it loosened more and more until eventually, after about six of them, it violently shot open, the ladder extending to the floor below.
Harry huffed and puffed, but the smile wouldn't leave his face. He did it. He made it out of the attic of whatever house he was in. He won. He…
Let his guard down.
While kicking the hatch and making an awful racket, Harry didn't hear the moth as it traveled around the light. His desperation was so great, he forgot about the monster entirely. So it was a complete surprise when he felt a slimy tongue wrap around his ankle and pull him away from the open hatch, dragging him across the ground.
How could he be so stupid!? He fudges everything up, right at the eleventh hour? Are you kidding?
He reached for the flashlight, but in his haste, he fumbled that too. Instead of grabbing it, he knocked it away. His face fell as it tumbled down the hatch and out of sight. That was his last hope.
But he wasn't going down without a struggle. He clawed and grabbed at the ground, anything to slow his progress toward that disgusting thing's mouth.
"Listen! You really don't want to eat me. I taste terrible! Everyone says so," he tried, but it seemed to fall on deaf ears. Or ears that couldn't understand a word of what he said. Either way, it didn't work, and the thing seemed to enjoy his struggle, knowing it would be his last.
It dragged him underneath it, and Harry could smell its putrid breath, making him gag. "It's called a breath mint pal," he snarked. It didn't seem to mind, and proceeded to try and take a bite out of him.
Harry struggled, using what little strength he had left to keep the monster at bay. But the adrenaline was leaving him, and soon, he would have no strength left.
It was close. He could taste the things breath, which was far worse than the smell. Like rotten meat, rotten eggs, and sour milk. It was a miracle he didn't throw up all over it. He might have tried it, if he thought it would work, but after the smell and the taste testing, he doubted it.
Better to die with some dignity, even if he was the only one who would ever know.
It was now an inch away. Its round mouth pulsating and drooling, eager to take the first bite. This was it. Goodbye cruel world, it was terrible knowing you.
Just as Harry accepted his death, a miracle happened. He didn't die. A light, bright and beautiful, and somewhat familiar, illuminated the area. The moth screeched in anger, shock, and pain as it flopped off of him, scurrying into the darkness.
Harry breathed deeply, his heart racing like never before. What happened? Why wasn't he dead? Not that he was complaining about that fact, he was just surprised is all.
Laying on his back, Harry looked behind him. There, standing in the open hatch, was a figure. He couldn't make out much, as the light was blinding him, but it seemed to be a kid like him.
Then the light flickered off, and Harry could see who it was. Standing there was a girl about his age, with messy black hair, much like his own. Unlike him though, she had ruby red eyes, and was wearing a thin, white shirt.
"Come with me if you want to live."