Unfortunately all of Elinors attention was on the figure approaching her, she had not thought that if there was something before her that there could equally be something behind her. Not until she heard the almost silent movement of bare feet behind her.
Not until the antiseptic odour of a hospital tickled her nostrils combined with the odours of decay and blood.
Only then did she turn around. Only then did she find the air in her lungs to scream.
Behind her was no longer the cluttered office she had entered. The old wooden floor crumbled away to cold tiles, the panelled walls became cold, dank, mouldy tiled walls. An old clinic was forming behind her. A long passage opened up in the wall, it was the figure in the passage that gave birth to her scream.
A tall pale figure, its flesh grey, mottled, almost like old wax. The figure stood waiting for her. Reluctant to turn her back on either of the horrors that she now faced she tried to run - but to run where? There was nowhere.
Her feet tripped and she sprawled onto the cold tile floor in front of the rotting figure. Her own voice echoed, 'please to God for this not to be real, pleas for aid' pleas that went unanswered as she felt cold, clammy hands close around her ankles.
An inhuman strength dragged her down the narrow passage behind her, her screams echoing along the way....