(Set) in Stone

There was a hand, coming out of the wall, pushing the table away, into the centre of the corridor.

It's arm was now visible, and was littered in purple and blue bruises, with nails scraped into fine lines, the skin cut and bleeding. The hand looked like it belonged to somebody who had clawed and scraped and dug their way out into the world.

Whoever it belonged to had pale, sallow skin, slightly beginning to wrinkle. The limb was incredibly thin, each gnarl of bone protruding and stretching the paper thin layer over it. The bones were sharp and looked as if they could tear through their coverings with ease. Each blood vessel and vein popped out and moved as if they were burrowing worms, writhing with and every flex of the practically non-existent muscle on that arm and hand.

Malik backed himself away and around the corner, unwilling to see what else would drag itself from the wall, and turned around to face where he was going. He was going to run to the front doors, hands and arms flailing as he did so to try and get some attention. He was throw his entire body and worth at the door.

He would do anything to not be caught by that thing. To not be touched by that thing.

Just as he was about to launch his body into a sprint, he forced himself to stop.

Another one of those hands was breaking out of the wall, but only now, there was an equally pale leg accompanying it. The toe nails of the beast were a sickly yellow, twisted, and the soles of the feet were full of festering, open cuts and wounds, directly on the callouses. There were warts, and bleeding spots of pus on those legs, the fluid leaking down onto the immaculate, red carpet.

Malik was trapped.

Either way he went, there was one of those horrific, decrepit human husks, battered and broken, yet vomit inducing.

Malik shot his head back around to the window, which showed the outside. There was nobody out there to see him or help him. He whirled his entire body around to see the windows which led to the windows which showed the shitty tea party.

He looked both ways to the beasts, coming closer and closer to erupting into the world, and decided against it. He had no idea whether this window was more feeble than the others that he had tried. He couldn't risk his life for something so stupid right now either.

His heart almost stopped when he saw the creature, near the table, almost fully out of the hole in the wall, the hole that it had made.

It's head held something that looked like hair. It was black, like his, but oily and thick, almost completely matted down in tangles. It looked unsalvageable, and almost as if it had a mind of its own, waving up and down in the moonlight.

But nothing compared to those fucking eyes.

They glowed a singular colour with no irises. And nothing really to give them sight.

They were coloured an acidic, vomit like shade of green, with a single black dot, rattling about in the eye as the monster shook its head, making random shrieking noises.

It's ribs were all fully visible and countable, its stomach sunken in and looking more like a pit than anything else.

There was a loud punching noise behind Malik.

He threw his body around to see that the beast, that had been behind him, was rhythmically beating against the wall that held its upper body captive.

Slightly emboldened by its lack of intelligence, Malik took a deep breath, and ventured slightly closer, towards one of the door that would hopefully keep him safe.

He needed to get closer to the thing, to reach the doors, and he needed to get closer to the walls.

He didn't know whether there was something there, ready to grab at him, and presumably kill him through video game logic. He might die from exposure alone, looking at those fucking disgusting limbs.

Every part of their bodies were infected and ill, as if they were all suffering every single disease all at once.

Malik edged his body closer to the door closest to him, thankfully out of view of the first creature that had been birthed out from the walls. He reached out to the golden door knob, and tried to turn it, flinching when the heap of metal clicked and did nothing else.

It was locked.

It wasn't giving way.

Both creatures had stopped moving.

There was no more banging noise against the wall, dictating when his heart should beat.

Malik held his breath, struggling to hear anything over the minute rustles of his own clothing, his eyes bulging out of their sockets as he continuously scanned the place where those hideous, now bleeding as well, legs met the wall, and, as best he could, around the corner.

Nothing was moving. Everything was silent.

Malik took the opportunity to edge himself slight closer to the next door, just a little further away from him, yet closer to the monster's now stone still legs.

He grasped that door handle firmly, and gave a pull towards him.

The handle wasn't budging. It wasn't moving.

He turned it the other way, as best he could, and another small click came again.

This one was locked as well.

Malik's lungs were burning now, tears gathering in his eyes.

He was going to die in this stupid place. He was going to die because of these fucking monsters, in some fucking house that he had never even heard of, all alone, and he wouldn't even be able to say goodbye to his Grandma.

It wasn't fair.

He hadn't done anything to offend any Gods. He hadn't done anything really that bad in his life. The worst thing that he had really done was steal money from the shop till to buy himself FIFA when he was a teenager.

He really wasn't that bad.

Why the fuck was he being stuck with this mess!?

A grating screech echoed through the house, and Malik threw his hands over his ears. The banging against the wall had returned and he felt as if his ears were bleeding from all the sound.

A chunk of plaster fell into the corridor and Malik saw that it had been headbutted out.

The thing was hitting its head against the wall, and was screaming out. It's arms flailed wildly around, hitting anything and everything, gesticulating as if the monster had suddenly gone insane and was hell bent on hitting itself on anything and everything, doing as much damage as possible as it did so.

It's maw was wide open, the jaw barely stopping itself from unhinging and falling to the floor. It's few teeth were rotting and black, sticking up at odd, unnatural angles and belching out an eye watering, repugnant odor.

This one was bald, and the rotting skin, which hatefully adorned its head, looked to be scabbing and flaking, with the dead skin thrown in all directions, smearing the plaster which it hit, and staining the wallpaper which it brushed against.

Malik lunged to the next door, closest to the beast, and desperately shook the handle, first towards himself then the other way.

This fucking one finally opened, and Malik threw it open with both hands, purposefully jamming it against the creature's legs, and lunged into the room, not bothering to look inside, before shutting the door.

He looked from side to side, looking for anything to jam the doorknob. To the right, was an ornate chaise, and he dragged it towards the door, angling the handle against its gold decorations, which lined the top, and thrust it upwards.

He pulled on both the chaise and the doorknob a few times, ensuring their sturdiness, before letting himself fall back and sighing in relief.

He closed his eyes tightly and panted heavily, wiping his eyes free of their wetness, and collapsed fully onto the floor, his eyes gazing up to a now familiar ceiling.

He was safe.

"Well, I've certainly not had visitors for a while."