My wheels roll and creak, scratching jagged lines into the bitumen road when I come to a halt.

Towering over the town, the black eyes for windows glare at me. The pavement is smashed, the wood is rotting and the metal, rusting. The tire hangs from the tree like a decomposing body, pieces of it collapsing onto the ground every now and then.

The wind howls as I drag my bike along with me, the wheels catch on the spikes of pavement, threatening to burst if I take it any further. I drop it, continuing my creep towards the house.

I keep a slouched posture, staying low for the sake of a gun’s barrel that could be pointed to my head if I’m seen.

My eyes dart around, and I make a leap for the porch as adrenaline sends a freezing rush along my spine.

I peek through the boards, noticing a small, hunched lamp, flickering.

I step to the door, it glares down at me before I pull back my leg and spring the door open.

Once the door slows, the creak sounds like a giggle, echoing through the walls.

“Hello?” My words replay back to me from the pitch black.

I dig into my pocket and flick on my phone’s flashlight, inching inside.

My eyes dart around, searching for something, anything, that piques my interest.

I pace over to the hunched lamp, squatting beside it.

The flickers make small buzzes that make my ears itch.

“Didn’t think there’d be electricity here.” I say, gliding my flashlight along the chord to find it resting on the floor, far from any power point.

I jolt, my breath thickens, throwing my heart into my throat.

That isn’t possible.

This shouldn’t be possible.

I glance back at the lamp with widened eyes, and the pattern of its flashes buzz at me louder as I go to jump away.

Three short flickers, three long flickers, three short flickers, repeat.

My shaking body steadies itself as I put my focus into the pattern.

Three short flickers, three long flickers, three short flickers, repeat.

Three short… “S,” three long.. “O,”

Three short again.

“S, O, S.” I repeat to myself.

My hands vibrate, and my heart punches at my rib cage, aching to get out.

The letters reverberate in my mind, bouncing against each other until I subconsciously tap the lamp the pattern it spoke to me.

It goes silent.

The flickering stops.

The buzzing stops.

The lamp is off.

I dart my eyes around, taking my flashlight with my gaze. The house is empty. Dusty chairs and a snapped table with a floor made of cigarette butts.

I breathe, lightheaded with the mould and dust I take in.

“Thank you, kind boy.” A whisper suddenly flows into my ear.

My voice erupts, I slam my hands down and spring up, desperately sprinting for the door.

My steps are heavy, fast, terrified.

I fall through.

I fall through the floor and my leg is stuck.

Someone is coming.

Something is coming.

The darkness consumes my whole body, and I am stuck.

I am stuck in the floor.

My leg is bloodied and scratched and my pants are torn.

And I am stuck.

My phone is metres away.

Something is coming.

I scream, beg, pray, before a crushing weight around my torso causes my vision to fade away, the darkness becomes even darker.

…

I awake in darkness, consumed by the loneliness that surrounds me like a friend.

I sob, desperately sucking in the air that is being stolen from me.

“No! Help!” I yell, it echoes.

It is repeated back to me in my own voice, I hear nothing else.

I can’t move.

I know I am on ground, I am sitting on something.

My legs will not move.

My hand touches the floor and everything around me is lit, it turns white.

I jump and remove my hand, closing the dark back in on me.

I place my hand again, remove it, place it.

I tap three short times, three long, and three short again.

Three short.

Three long.

Three short.