It was already late noon by the time Richard woke up. The cab was jerking hard along the deteriorated road and was heading deep into the woods.
"How come we haven't reached already?" Richard asked, slowly looking around him. The windows were slightly open letting cool breeze enter into the car. He sat straight and kept a hand on his head. Not only was his shirt wet, but the seats were too. It smelled mildly of long-cleaned vomit and that explained his headache.
The cab driver didn't reply. Under other circumstances he would have courteously answered that they would reach in a minute or two but right now all he thought was, I don't get paid enough for this; and he couldn't help but smile at himself.
The cab smoothly stopped in front of an old mansion where Richard stepped out, with a plastic bag in his hand, and paid the driver. He would've tipped him, he thought to himself, if he was slightly richer. All he said was, thank you and sorry for the trouble, which was way too formal to be taken seriously. Richard turned towards the mansion. Strong wind tickled the hairs on his neck. A sensation on his neck. He turned and looked around. Nothing except dried leaves scratching each other.
Richard let out a deep sigh. He was feeling way too uneasy.
Richard felt the same when he opened the door. Something pinged at him, just below the level of consciousness. He ignored it and went straight for his 'health and creative break'. He passed his parent's portrait to reach the kitchen and took out popcorn from his plastic bag and heated it.
Then he went straight towards the sofa after switching on the television and started gulping down popcorn lethargically. Unfortunately, his favourite show had just concluded because he reached late. He went on going back and forth on different channels and landed on the news highlights.
Same crimes everyday, we really do live in a loop. His fingers searched the bowl - it was empty. He lazily sat up, about to get more, when his eyes caught the news:
"Three patients escaped from a mental hospital, killing a guard in the process. None are identified. However we can confirm that all three of them were women. Two are caught, but…"
Richard's pupils widened and his breath got very heavy, but he held it tight. His eyes moved around the walls, and got fixed at the mirror that pointed at the stairs behind him. Because Richard knew that the one woman at large was Jane. He knew it because he finally identified the ping of unease he felt at the door. It was the smell, faint and fading, of Vitalis hair tonic. Jane's hair tonic. Richard hugged his knees tightly; a slow drop of sweat going down his temple.
Then he heard it; the footsteps behind him, slowly descending down the stairs. He must get up, do something, run..
But his body refused to move, his muscles tight with fright. As he held his breath, he saw in the mirror – Jane's legs.
Too late! I should've moved earlier!! He only helplessly watched as her hands, gripping a handle tightly behind her, revealed themselves in the mirror.
Richard tore his hands free from his knees and threw them behind him. It hit the sofa and sent him straight to the ground, face first. Panting and his nose bleeding, he crawled on the ground. Richard heard something heavy scrape the floor.
"Jane-wait–you're safe here—let's talk-"
Richard's heart skipped beats. He heard a whirr as an engine was started to life. He turned around, only for his jaw to drop dead. Jane was slowly descending the stairs, her eyes fixed on him. Those eyes, they were far from blank, they were hungry. She was now on the last two steps. Panicking, he threw himself to his feet and fell towards the wall. "NO NOOOO!.."
He saw Jane, dragging a heavy metallic chainsaw down the stairs.
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