I blinked as I regained consciousness. My head throbbed with a ferocious pain. I tried to recall what had happened, but my memory was foggy. Then, as my eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room, I saw it: a bloody knife clutched in my hand.

My heart pounded with fear as I stumbled to my feet, trying to make sense of the situation. Had I killed someone? Had someone framed me? The walls of the room were barren and peeling, with a single window covered by thick curtains. There was no one else in sight.

As I stumbled towards the door, I heard a creaking sound behind me. I turned around, and there, standing in the shadows, was a figure that made my blood run cold. It was a man, tall and gaunt, with a face twisted by malice. He was holding a gun.

For a moment, we stared at each other in silence. And then, he spoke, his voice dripping with venom. "What have you done?" he hissed. "You're going to pay for this, one way or another."

I tried to plead my innocence, but he wouldn't listen. He was convinced that I was the one who had committed the crime, and he was determined to make me pay for it. He herded me towards the door, his gun pointed at my back.

As we made our way through the winding corridors of the abandoned building, I realized that I was trapped in a nightmare. The man was relentless in his pursuit, his eyes burning with a fierce intensity. I knew that I had to find a way out, or I would never survive.

But every door was locked, every window barred. The man had thought of everything, and he seemed to know the building like the back of his hand. I was trapped, with no hope of escape.

In the end, it was a stroke of luck that saved me. As we rounded a corner, I saw a glint of light in the distance. It was the police, come to investigate the crime scene. The man panicked, and in his confusion, he dropped his gun.

I seized the opportunity and ran, my heart pounding with adrenaline. As I burst through the door and into the bright sunlight, I knew that I had narrowly escaped with my life. But the memory of that bloody knife, and the man who had tried to frame me for murder, would haunt me forever.

© c.wright