rock/fist/paper/scissors || sid & fred || iii.
"Shit!"
Fred scrambled desperately away from the door, Sid's hand gripped tightly in hers, and pressed herself into the back corner. Her heart was pounding in her chest, the blood was pounding in her ears, eyes fixed unblinkingly on the horrible dark room. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Shit. Holy motherfucking hell.
This is it. This is death.
They were bodies. Those were dead bodies. But she hadn't imagined what had just happened, she was certain.
Maybe seconds, maybe hours, she was paralyzed, dizzy with the sound of her own breathing.
Nothing.
She could see the key, clutched tightly in the swollen-fingered grasp of a little girl. Her cold glassy eyes gazed out from the depths. Unmoving. The entire room was still.
Fred finally dared to whisper. "What was that?"