Without Candles

It was as if someone was banging on a bass drum inside Tom’s head. He pushed himself up from the floor, as his memory returned.
Damn!” He hissed as he leaned against the wall for support. It was dark, all the candles had been blown out.
“Tom? Is that you?” a familiar voice whispered through the dark.
“Jon! Thank the Lord!” Tom cried.
Shhhh! Don’t let him-” Jon whispered furiously.
There was a bang and Tom instinctively dropped to the ground.
“Who’s there?” Demanded a rough voice.
Tom held his breath, praying desperatly. Please, don’t let him find me. Keep Jon safe, please, please, please don’t let him find me…
It must have worked because the voice grunted, and there was the thud of footsteps fading away.
“You idiot! You almost got us killed,” Jon hissed. “Come here.”
“Where?” Tom whispered back in confusion.
“Follow my voice.”
Tom did as he was instructed, and soon he came close enough to see Jon’s large figure, a lump in the dark.
“What’s going on?” Tom whispered.

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