Tormentor

You wake up.

The room comes into focus. You go to wipe your eyes, but your arms are restrained to your chest. The echo’s of two pieces of weathered steel sliding across each other enter the hallway behind you.

You try to turn your head to recognize that horrible sound, but you can’t turn your head that far. The mechanical, unnatural sound grows louder. Footsteps, barely audible tickle your ears, almost inaudible among the griding of blades. Now the shrill, creeping is right behind you. The footsteps stop.