Adam held the heavy cast-iron frying pan in his hand. Its weight was a small comfort a solid tangible thing in a world that had become a surreal nightmare. He walked slowly down the long corridor his footsteps a soft measured beat on the wooden floor.
He wasn't running this time. There was no point in rushing towards his inevitable death.
He will have to minimise the noise of his footsteps so that he does not make any sound.
He reached the end of the corridor the entrance to the small shop just ahead. He peered around the corner. The scene was exactly as he remembered it from his last moments.
Sophia's mother was lying on the floor a still form behind the counter. She was already dead. A single dark hole in her forehead told the story.
This time Adam made no attempt to save her.
Because he knows that now he will have to find a way to escape from this problem for himself as well as for Sophia and her family so that they do not have to face any trouble because of Adam.
