Hell's breaking loose.
From below I can hear the pounding of demons trying to escape. Rhythmically beating the air so it's more felt than heard. An almost imperceptible monotone moan counterpoint rises to meet petrified ears.
Imagination populates the darkness alongside with horned and taloned beasts, climbing the walls to taste freedom. The rattle through the hollow spaces signifying a last desperate defence.
Pretend it's not happening. Keep typing. Keep working.
As if that will save me.
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Very short short stories.
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