Serial Dating

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My rapid footsteps slap on the concrete of the dark fire station. I round the next corner, feeling my heart race from exertion and adrenaline. Holding my breath, I strain to hear movement behind me. Anything that would alert me to where my attacker is. Pressing my back against the rough brick of the hallway, I peer around the corner. Empty. Silent.

 

I squeeze the smooth handle of the knife I found in the firehouse kitchen quickly several times, the weight of it reassuring, grounding me. Sweat drips in a steady stream, burning my eyes. I rub the sleeve of my shirt across my forehead, hoping to clear my vision. It doesn’t matter, I see nothing of my pursuer in the darkness. 

 

I’m going to die. 

 

I shove that thought aside roughly. A sudden movement at my feet makes me suck in a startled breath. 

 

“Shit,” I whisper on an exhale as a kitten winds its way around my feet. 

 

I bend down to create a lower profile. The kitten sees this as an invitation and paws at my hands. I reach over without thinking and rub his head. It’s soothing. I can feel my heartbeat settling. 

 

Smack!

 

The loud sound of a door being thrown open at the back of the station jerks me to attention. He’s in the building!  

 

I strain to see out into the darkness, but it’s like an impenetrable curtain. But I can hear him strolling methodically down the hall. Staying down, I press forward, even slower and more carefully. A quiet meow behind me stops my heart and I almost cry out. I try to stifle it, but a tiny squeak escapes my lips. I look back and the kitten is following me. 

 

Running into the firehouse had turned out to be a mistake. Who would have thought it would be empty, the big red engine missing. I guess they all go out on calls. Who knew? But I doubt I could have made it anywhere else anyway. 

 

“I know you’re in here, Sarah.” My blood freezes as I hear Bradley call out, pausing seductively on my name. Caressing me with his words. “You left the door open. Very careless. Or do you like our little game?”

 

I shudder. He is hunting me. I can hear the desire in his voice. I have to get away. The kitten meows loudly next to me, and the spike of adrenaline makes me jump. 

 

“It sounds like we have a little friend in here with us. Maybe I can have an appetizer before the main course. I’ll make sure you get to watch.” He leaves his words in the air to taunt me. “Didn’t you tell me your beloved cat, Ginger, died last month? How sad for you to have to watch another one die.” 

 

Fucking online dating! If I survive this night, OkCupid will be getting a scathing review from me. What in my profile made me match with a serial killer? Because I said I was a bit of a loner? And now he knows so much about me from our online chats. Damn! He really was a good conversationalist; I mean until he tried to kill me. 

 

I can hear his slow, deliberate footsteps getting closer, the muffled rasping sound as he drags his fingers along the walls as he stalks closer. I freeze, scared to even breathe. I can’t leave the kitten for Bradley to kill, but I can’t take it with me. Cursing myself, I scoop the little thing into the front of my sweatshirt. It starts purring so loud, I know we will be caught. 

 

With this tiny creature snuggled safely against me, I decide this man’s reign of terror ends here. I quickly make my plan. It’s madness, and probably won’t work, but I won’t let this monster hunt anyone, ever again. 

 

3-2-1, GO! I force myself to my feet. With one hand clutching the knife, and the other holding the kitten in place, I sprint for the doorway. I hear the pursuing footsteps only a few feet behind me. I can almost feel his breath on my neck. I fling the door open. I spin to set the kitten on the pile of jackets in the corner, while simultaneously raising the knife. 

 

Bradly crashes through the door seconds after me. His face is lit by an unnerving grin. He lunges forward, his fist connecting with me. He throws his arms around me, wrapping me in a bear hug. Reeling from the punch, I swing the knife wildly. It sinks into his thigh with a wet sound, and I feel him loosen his grasp. I push away from him.

 

“You bitch!” he screams at me. I feel the violence in his voice. 

 

He rips the knife out of his thigh and dives forward. I turn to run. He grabs my hair and throws me to the ground. The air leaves my lungs. I open my mouth, desperate for oxygen. I feel the blackness creeping in on the edges of my vision. I scrabble backward, still on the ground as he towers over me. I reach behind me and feel the edge of a fire extinguisher. 

 

Hope flares in me. I grope blindly behind me. Finally, I get a grip on it. Fumbling awkwardly on the ground, I manage to pull the pin. White foam envelopes him. He claws at his face, trying to clear his eyes. While he’s blinded, I leap to my feet and bring the extinguisher down, hard. The thick thud of the metal against his skull makes me nauseous. Bradley falls to the ground. Not moving. 

 

Slowly, I edge forward and prod him with my foot. Nothing.

 

“Yeah, no second date for us.”  

 

I look down when something rubs against my leg. The kitten is rubbing against me, purring.

 

“You fuzzy asshole, you almost got us killed.” I scoop him up and scratch behind his ears. “Let’s get out of here, I have a review to write.”


 
 

This story was written for the NYC Midnight Flash Fiction Challenge in 2020 for Round #2. The story parameters were:

  • Genre: Action/Adventure

  • Location: Fire Station

  • Object (that must be physically included, somehow): A kitten

  • 1,000 words or less

  • 48 Hours to write/edit/submit it

Click Here to read a blog post about how I did in Round #1 of the Challenge.

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Writing Prompt:

Write a story using the same guidelines (listed on the left) that were given for this piece. Post your story in the comments or email them to info@ashleystowers.com.

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