The Prey

The room wasn't small as such but the low ceiling made it feel somewhat suffocating. There were gaps in the rotten wooden panels but these let in no light from the adjoining rooms, and a chandelier hung still overhead, its once bronze exterior coated in rust and cobwebs.

Close to the barred window, in which the glass shard remains were the only proof of its once complete existence, lay a dead bird. Blood crusted to its now dull black feathers and a fly lay on the crooked bend to its neck.

Crouched in the corner of the room, behind the inward opening door was a girl, no older than fifteen. She hadn't yet grown into her beauty but she a growth spurt-or-two away from being there. In her right hand, she held a jagged piece of glass that she'd retrieved from the floor. It was wrapped in the material that she'd torn from the t-shirt that she wore under a black hoodie. She nervously twisted a strand of her long dark hair around a shaking finger, before she wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her head on her knees.

She lifted her head up and with her little finger, carefully pulled her left sleeve over the wristband she wore. She studied the red glowing numbers attached to it: 01.05.37.

“Not long left,” she whispered, as she pulled her sleeve back over the wristband. “Not much longer.”

Her words didn't calm her because however hard she tried to force herself to believe that they were true, she knew that they weren't. She let out a nervous chuckle and instantly placed her hand over her mouth. She sat there statue-still for the next couple of minutes, before moving her hand and chewing on her already bitten, dirt-filled fingernails.

She used to think that it was easy; surviving. It’d looked easy when she'd watched it. She'd screamed out with annoyance when someone had been caught because they'd done something stupid, like leaving a room early or not creating a weapon out of something. Now she knew different, she knew that it wasn't easy being a Prey at all.

The creaks from outside of the room were subtle at first but grew in volume as they neared her. The girl’s heartbeat increased so rapidly that she imagined it bursting out of her chest and pulsating in a bloodied mess on the floor in front of her.

She tried to hold her breath but this only seemed to increase the pounding of her heart. Could they hear it, did they know she was in here? She closed her eyes tightly and clutched the piece of glass so strongly that she felt it cut into her hand. The pain reminded her that she was alive, that she was here, and that it was real. She opened her eyes and stared forwards, her vision catching the dead bird.

“Come out little Prey, come out, come out wherever you are,” a voice from outside of the room sung. Laughter followed it, the laughter of a girl.

"Are you in here?" the same voice spoke this time, before the sounds of a door being kicked in followed.

There was a brief period of silence before the footsteps returned and carried on up the hallway, they sounded close this time, too close.

“Maybe you're in here?” Further door-shattering sounds followed.

The girl flinched, and readied herself for them to appear, only the door didn't open. She let out a relieved breath and told herself that they'd missed her room out and that they'd forgotten about her and move onto finding someone else.

The door opened with a violent shove and bashed into the girl’s legs. She let out a startled squeal before immediately clamping her teeth into her bottom lip. Maybe they hadn't heard her and maybe they'd leave?

A figure walked across the room, and stooped down next to the dead bird, poking it with their finger. They wore a black hoodie, the only colour on it was a glowing red vertical line printed on the back. The meaning behind this sent a new bout of fear through the girl, she too had a glowing vertical line printed on the back of her top, only hers wasn't red, instead, it was green. From her hiding place, she mouthed a single word; “Hunter.”

Someone else appeared behind them, their silhouette taller than the first and the same red vertical line was on their black hoodie.

“Stop it,” the second figure said. “We have work to do.”

"But I'm bored," the stooped figure replied; it was a female voice.

The second figure shrugged, then in an unfaltering tone said, “she's hiding behind the door.”

On hearing this the stooped figure stood up and turned away from the bird so that she was facing the other figure.

“Let me do it?” she pleaded.

“We can both do it.”

“But you always get to do the most damage, let me have a turn.”

“Why should I?”

“Please, just this once.”

“Fine,” they muttered, as they tapped the metal bar they were holding gently against their open hand.

The girl remained crouched behind the door, knowing that they knew she was there but too afraid to move. If she'd been watching this happen then she'd be screaming at herself, telling herself off for choosing such a rubbish hiding place and for now being too much of a coward to move.

If she stayed there then she would die but if she ran for it, then maybe, just maybe she would make it. She could find a better place to hide, one in which they'd never find her. She could survive this and then she'd be safe, she could go home.

She was going to do it; she was going to run. She jumped up from the floor and took a step forwards but before she could begin to run an outstretched hand shoved her back down.

A boy was standing over her, seventeen, maybe eighteen but it was hard to tell in this light. He was dressed all in black, his hood up, and specks of dried blood stuck to his face, and in his hand was a metal bar.

“Going somewhere?” the other girl asked, as she appeared alongside the boy. Her hair was as blonde as her skin was pale and swinging around her neck in a pendulum-like fashion was a heart-shaped locket, crimson red on a gold linked chain.

She pulled something out of her jacket pocket, a knife. She brought it up to her pretty face and studied it.

In a frantic panic the girl jabbed her shard of glass out at the leg of the boy but he dodged it in time and then laughed. He snatched it out of her hand and threw it across the room.

“Don't worry, we'll make it quick-ish,” the blonde girl grinned.

In death, the girl thought that she'd always be brave but the truth was that she wasn't. As the blonde girl bent down over her with the knife raised, she found herself whimpering as she shielded her face with her hands. The last thing that she noticed through the gaps in her fingers was the gentle swaying of the blonde girl’s red heart locket before she closed her eyes and tilted her head away.

The knife stabbed through her skin as if it was made of paper. She screamed but still, the girl was relentless, slashing at her arms, legs, and stomach. Her blood splattered up the walls and soon her shrieks grew quieter until they stopped completely but still, she carried on stabbing at her lifeless body.

“Happy now?” the boy said after the girl had finally stopped.

“Yeah,” she smirked, as she wiped her sleeve across her blood-splattered forehead.

“Good, because I'm doing the next one,” he said, as he headed towards the door.

“Yeah, whatever,” she gripped her necklace, gently tapping her finger against the heart pendant as she followed him.

She peered back into the room, her gaze falling upon the congealed dead bird before she quickly glanced away.