Low Battery: Short Fiction

It’s the sixth day of my writing challenge, where I will post a new piece of fiction every day until Sunday – which means there are only one more post left!

This day’s story is 440 words. The prompt was “someone is trapped in a cave and their batteries run out”.

Let me know what you think about it and, of course, show the love by sharing!

Dedicated to MJA.

 

Low Battery

I slapped the head of my flashlight against my palm. It flickered once, twice, then steadied. The light was weaker. I cursed myself for not remembering to change the batteries the last time I used it. I came into the cave often enough, I should know better by now than to chance things.

Somewhere in these stony entails of the Earth, I heard the footsteps. My heart quickened. They were still close.

Gripping my flashlight tighter, I started in at a quick jog. I couldn’t run, not with my light failing and with the uneven ground coupled with the hanging outcrops of rock from the ceiling. My breathing grew harsh, loud. I sucked in a deep breath, held it, and released slowly. I didn’t want them to hear me. I couldn’t let them hear me.

I usually knew these tunnels like the layout of my own house but …

I reached up with my free hand and touched the tender spot at the back of my head. It was still wet with blood. The blow had made me blackout from the pain for a few seconds and when I’d regained my vision, I was dizzy, things had been hazy.

I heard the steps closer now and ducked around a corner. This tunnel seemed familiar, yes – right there, one of my scratched arrows low on the rock wall. It was barely visible in the encroaching darkness. My flashlight dimmed further. This was not good. I didn’t want to get trapped down here in the absolute darkness. There would be no way I’d find my way out just by memory or fumbling around in the tunnels.

I hurried my step, while still straining to be as silent as possible. I couldn’t let them hear me. They were making so much noise though, that I thought I had a chance.

They were closer now. I sped up, not caring if they heard me.

I saw the hint of a light up ahead. I was so close.

I looked down, my flashlight was dead. It didn’t matter now. I was golden.

I rounded that last corner and there they were.

The woman and her child. The woman was holding a lighter, that had been the light I’d seen. Her daughter clutched her leg, sobbing and sobbing. I smiled.

It didn’t matter that my batteries had run out. I’d caught up to them before they reached the exit and escaped.

The mother uttered a small scream, waving the lighter back and forth in front of her as if to ward me off. I dropped the now useless flashlight and pulled my knife from my belt.

 

 

Hope you all enjoyed that little tale (felt a little like the Crypt Creeper by saying that…)

Until tomorrow, my fellow scare chasers!

x P.L. McMillan

3 thoughts on “Low Battery: Short Fiction

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