The match stick flickered to life, illuminating the damp walls and peeling paint of the hallway. As soon as it did, the man started running, his footsteps echoing into the thick air of the rundown structure. His wary eyes darted around him, eyeing the shadows cast by the dancing flame. Ahead of him, about two hundred yards away, was an opening that led into the pitch-black night.

The match burned quickly, and he cupped his other hand in a feeble attempt to shield it. His feet moved nimbly, closing the distance in several seconds. Just a little more...

*click*

He was suddenly aware of the growing darkness. The flame on the match stick was quickly fading.

"No... NO! Not yet!" He shouted into the night. His feet quickened, going faster than they have ever gone before.

*click*

The sound behind him came much nearer. He flailed in panic, his right foot catching against a piece of metal pipe that jutted out from the ground.

*click*

He watched in horror as the scene tumbled around him, the match stick flying from his outstretched hand. The tongue of fire sputtered and died in midair, giving way to a swirling line of white smoke. He lost sight of it as he fell face first to the ground.

*click*

When he pushed himself up, the darkness was gone. He was sprawled against shiny white tiles, almost blinded by a sudden fluorescent glare. He took a sharp breath, and the smell of antiseptic assaulted his nostrils.

*CLICK*

A white shoe stepped into view, its two-inch heel clicking loudly against the tiles.

*click*

*click*

*click*

Several more of them arrived forming a circle around him, blocking any escape.

*clickclickclickclick*

He looked up in terror as a sweet voice cooed to him. "Aww, look, Mr. Finch has hurt himself again!"

*click*

Around him were about twenty nurses, all looking perfectly alike. The one directly in front of him leaned down, as Finch cowered away.

"Now what shall we do with you?"

*click*

*click*

*CRACK!*

As if on cue, the nurses broke a wide smile. Grotesque, inhumanly wide smiles. They then approached the whimpering man.

*click*

*click*

*CRACK!*

The midnight air shuddered as an agonized scream tore through the damp and peeling walls of the rundown building. Three paces from its entrance, was a thin piece of wood, charred and crooked, where Mr. Finch had dropped it.