Joseph Keyes - Journal Entry #029

That must be my ninth life. Three more, and they had a seer with them. No more hiding. I went to the elevator, pressed for the roof, then instead ran for the eastern stairwell and went down a floor. I would cross over and escape the way they entered. I couldn’t count on other exits being left uncovered. I clumsily unzipped my backpack enough to take out one of the batons with one hand and extended it. My other arm swung uselessly by my side. I couldn’t even clench my fingers into half a fist. I padded quickly across the fifth floor to the western stairwell. I could hear footsteps hard above me as I went. A pause as I opened the emergency exit with a push - nothing moves, so I plunge onto the dim landing and start descending the stairs, several at a time, my heart pounding an erratic rhythm into the back of my head. I make the second floor landing and see it, stopping dead. It stands at the bottom of the next flight, the blue corpse-light from its eyeless oversized goggles softly illuminating walls, rails and steps. They are heads shorter than the other spooks. It’s like looking at a child. Maybe that’s what makes them so terrifying. As I stand transfixed, it raises a long-fingered hand all in black and paws ponderously at something in the air which I cannot see. It did something to me in that breath, I’m sure of it. Since then I get piercing migraines which fade in seconds to an overwhelming urge to sleep, and sometimes blindness shrouds my eyes for minutes at a time without apparent cause. Pure force of will tore me away from the sight of the seer. I knew the others were coming to take me. By some divine mercy the second-floor emergency exit stands a little ajar. I tear it open and slam it behind me before hurtling down the hallway. I stop short as two spooks appear around a corner ahead - my baton is no longer in my hand. Into Room 024, lock the door, lock myself into the bathroom, tear the curtains off, sweep the bowl of black stones off the sill with a smash and a hundred snapping clicks as they hit the tiles. Pull the window open - the first door goes with a splintering crunch. Fear gives me wings. I awkwardly swing out of the window on one hand, lower myself as much as- Crack - that’s the bathroom door - I let go. A silent second of anticipation, then I hit the first floor fire escape. I lose myself in the impassive dirty sky a moment. Pain everywhere, but nothing beyond a few weeks rest. I wonder how long my body will last before something gives in. A faceless black deathmask emerges from the window I came out of and freezes a moment, looking down at me sprawled on the metal landing several metres below. I spare the spook a grin, and pull myself unsteadily back to my feet.