Each step I took in the dark was a gamble. Every time I placed down my foot there was a moment between stepping off and finding the next step where I hovered in space, uncertain if this was the moment that would have me topple forward with nothing to catch me, spinning out into a bottomless pit.
A deep pounding rhythm invaded the space, terribly loud and distant, giving the void an immensity I couldn’t quantify. The sound filled my head and shook my bones, a great drumming like something wanted to get out. A heartbeat.
I found my steps matching the rhythm. Step step. Step step. Like I wanted to dance with it. It was equal parts dread and compulsion, making my movements stiff and clumsy, like my legs weren’t functioning properly. I had to pinwheel my arms at one point as my foot landed halfway off a step.
The stairs were polished and smooth. I doubted I would be able to stop my descent if I picked up enough speed. Would gravity mercilessly throw me against the steps over and over for infinity until I was ground to a fine powder?
I stumbled again and felt a lurch of panic as I couldn’t maintain my balance in the absolute dark. I had to take a hasty step, my feet not landing where I expected them to, falling forward…
My knees cracked against solid ground. My hands touched down on the smooth surface as well and I stayed still, panting, trying to steady my breathing. The stairs had ended.
My eyes strained against the dark, trying to make out anything. Was there something there? Oftentimes on the darkest nights, the small amount you could see made monsters out of coat racks. But it turned out that in absolute pitch blackness, the same was true. I saw glimmers of light where there was none and movement that could only have stemmed from my imagination and yet it made my heart pound.
Then a door. I thought I saw a hallway with a door at the end.
I didn’t dare stand. Slowly, I dragged my hands forward, never letting them leave the ground, fearing it wouldn’t be there if I checked again. There were divots in the smooth floor. Running my fingers along the grooves, they felt like tiles. I crawled forward, eyes solely on the door. It grew closer and closer until I could reach out and touch it.
It felt like rough wood. I had to gingerly run my fingers along it to avoid getting splinters, searching for a doorknob. There wasn’t one. So I pushed.
The door fell away with zero resistance and I fell forward, this time so surprised that I didn’t catch myself before my cheek cracked against the floor. Pain shot through my head and I squeezed my eyes shut.
I rubbed my cheek, then paused. A faint light played against my eyelids.
When I opened my eyes I found myself in a hallway, a real one, with walls painted blue and dusty tiled floors. Orange light, like it was dusk, came from behind curtains that covered large windows. Despite me not feeling any air currents, the curtains swayed gently, making the ochre glow dance across the floor.
It appeared I was in a school, abandoned or perhaps just poorly funded. The paint on the walls was rough and flaky and the lockers I could see further down the hall were dented and rusty, with many missing doors. The deep echoes of the heartbeat shook the still air.
I picked myself up and dusted off my clothes. My fingers traced my body and made me flinch as I was reminded it was different than I remembered. I pinched the fabric of my sleeve, rolling it between my fingers. What had I been wearing before? It certainly wasn’t this, a white collared shirt and skirt, with a sweater vest over top. A school uniform to match the setting. The fabric itself felt off, like it was emulating cotton while being made of something denser.
My dress shoes clacked against the tiles as I walked down the hallway and peered into an open doorway. Inside, desks were haphazardly piled in the center of the room. I entered, stepping around the broken pencils and rulers that littered the floor. The desks had writing etched into the wood. Not unusual for a school but… the writing was pervasive, filling every possible inch of the wood.
I bent closer and read a sentence.
When an apex predator, such as a wolf, preys on a deer, the wolf is at the end of an energy path that began from reactions on the surface of the sun producing visible light, that is then captured by photosynthesis in vegetation, then to the deer that consumes the plant, and finally to the wolf that preys on the deer.
The rest of the etchings were similarly impassive descriptions of biology and biochemistry. Looking to the chalkboard at the front of the room, a similar effort had been made to gouge words into its surface. It was as if someone had scratched out the entire contents of a textbook into every surface that would take to it.
I stared at the piece of chalk that lay on the floor, unused.
The curtains waved in the non-existent wind and for a moment, through the window, I caught a glimpse of something red and twitching.
I backed up from the windows. This is fake, I reminded myself. This isn’t a real school. We’re inside the Lacuna. This was made by the Lacuna itself or by something in here.
Leaving the classroom, I moved forward with the intent on finding some stairs to go deeper. I kept my eyes away from the windows that offered tantalizing peeks at what was outside. The first stairwell I found only went up, with ripped-up lined paper scattered across the steps. The rips looked as though someone had tried writing but was pushing too hard with their pen, the beginning of letters ending in jagged tears and blots of ink.
I continued on, peering into classrooms and janitor closets. I passed a large gymnasium where the floor was strewn with soccer balls and basketballs, all deflated with puncture holes in them. The backboard of the hoop was covered in tightly arranged carved words.
There was something odd at the end of the hallway. The heartbeat boomed and I slowed as I approached what seemed to be a large hole. My shoes scraped across the tiles as I inched close and peered over the edge.
It was another hallway, just like the others, except this one was vertical. It descended several stories before splitting off at a T-intersection. The lockers still lined the walls and there was even a mop and bucket that stood in the middle of the hall, in an impossible defiance of normal gravity.
Click, click, click, click… click…
A rapid mechanical sound reached my ears, like a shuddering breath it started fast and then slowed before stopping and starting anew.
Click, click, click, click… click…
I turned towards the sound, looking down another stretch of the school.
A figure had just emerged from a classroom at the far end. They wore clothes like mine, a school uniform and from the neck sprouted a giant flower with vibrant pink petals that alternated between drooping and standing straight up, each petal the opposite of its neighbours.
I remained still, heart beating quickly.
The figure crossed the hall and entered a different room.
I crouched and considered dropping down the hallway of altered gravity. It seemed daunting somehow, even though the me from before wouldn’t have been concerned by such a drop. But besides backtracking there was only one other way to go.
Click, click, click, click… click…
Was it here to hunt me?
The shoes were noisy so I took them off along with my socks, then crept towards the sound. There was some broken glass that had been swept to the sides of the hall, so I stuck to the middle. One of the lockers swayed noisily on rusty hinges.
Click, click, click-
The sound stopped and I froze.
A rustle of movement from within the classroom. I darted to the nearest open locker and squeezed inside.
I remained motionless, the vibrations drowning out my own heartbeat. I didn’t hear any more activity. After waiting a long while, I risked a peek.
The hallway was quiet and still. I gently stepped out and padded softly over to the classroom and peered inside.
It was empty.
One of the curtains was draped across the outline of a square, a window that had been opened wide on its hinge. A door behind me creaked and I hurriedly moved back to the lockers just as a foot stepped out from a room that had previously been shut.
I tried closing the locker, then stopped halfway as it shrieked in protest.
Click, click, click, click… click…
The sounds grew louder. I held my breath.
Click…
The spawn stepped into view and I saw the box cutter it had in its grip, clicking as it pushed the blade in and out of the handle. Pencils and scissors with colourful handles pierced its arms haphazardly like a fashion statement. A few safety pins skewered the large purple petals. There was even one of those pointy metal tools that were used to draw circles stabbed into its shoulder.
It stopped in front of my locker and I couldn’t tell where it was looking. Had it seen me?
The petals rippled with a dark shade of purple.
Then it moved on.
Click, click, click.
I waited until the sound grew faint, then exhaled in relief. Pushing gently, I swung the locker door back open. It barely made any noise.
Until it dropped off its hinges and fell to the floor, making a clang that echoed through the whole school.