Ficly

Should Have Brought Batteries

“Come on, come on!” I muttered to my self as I started smacking the flashlight against the palm of my hand, “You can’t die on me now.”

The dim light flickered and struggled but it stood no chance against the heavy velvet of the darkness. I jiggled the switch and rattled the hunk of plastic in a panic to shake some life into the tired old flashlight.

I could sense the thick black fluid creeping in from the corners and closing in around me. I could feel it beginning to climb my legs up to my chest. I was getting crushed under its weight, each breath I tried to take turned out to be no more than a gasp for air.

The flashlight wasn’t even flickering now, it was no use. If I didn’t get out of there the monster would have got me for sure. I turned on my heels shoved my way out past the mothball-laden sweaters and heavy winter coats back to the safety of the light. The monster in my closet wouldn’t dare follow me into my room; after all I have my night-light on.

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