taking-ctrl

It should matter. But it doesn't. It should. Turn, turn, turn again. Fast footfall in silence. Twisted. Double back, turn again. An endless hallway of me. Can't face it. Don't look. Eyes ahead. And above, and behind, and the side. Shut up! This way.. Do you regret it? I don't have to answer that. Soft feet bare on cool stone. Slow drawn steps, distant but gaining. Long empty hallways decorated in gold and reflections, clinging to the walls like the ribcage of a long hallowed beast. It's coming. Run, run away now. I can't. A slide. Silk against skin, water against smooth stone. Drip. Drip. Drip. The brush of golden fish scales beneath a liquid moonlight surface. Fin and feather light, a caress. Here? Wrong way. Other way then. Heartbeat thrumming, a sinking, a slip, a slither. Thump. Warm against cool. Scales against flesh. HA! A voice from deep below. Ripples break the surface of stone. Golden eyes mocking, a flash and then gone. Sunk below the silt. Where?! There, right there.