The failed experiment
Story in response to the daily prompt
The room was empty. Thank god, he could hide there. He needed some time to undo what had escaped from his hands.
Wanting to hide at a safe, dry, and cool place, before IT saw him, he had stopped for a minute to think, before jumping in through the fence. Would that be safe? Yes. He had then run to this room.
Coming out of the shadows for three minutes, he had timed the distance, and guessed, how much it would take to reach the door without being seen or felt!
There were cameras everywhere. He had himself installed them.
Inside the room, this old office, he rubbed his hands on the apron to clean them, finding it hard to believe they were not drenched in IT’s blood.
His own chest was torn, and the blood had been dripping from the wound, drying up, leaving a cavity where his rib used to be, turning into a scar, still raw.
He did attack IT, forgetting there was no blood there, and now there were just some spots of blood from his own self-inflicted wounds, drying up.
Looking around for a water jug, he moved to the corner when in flies a dish of soap, flourishing a towel and singing a sweet tune… Ring-a-ring-a-rosies, a pocket full of posies!
