Phantom by Thomas Tessier

started for it.
Almost at once he stumbled again, flopping into what felt like a
tub or a vat of some sort. Ned cried out in anger. He got back onto
the floor and tried to move a little to the side, but a wall
pressed him back. Now he really was in a corridor, he realized, one
that was narrow and evidently full of old junk. The feeling of a
dreadful presence right behind him grew more' acute, but it also
spurred Ned on. He bumped into unidentifiable bulky objects at
almost every step, and he climbed over them or crawled around them
as fast as he could. The scrapes and bruises he suffered were
annoying, but there was no time to dwell on them. If I get out of
here I'll come back with a light and a big hammer, Ned promised
himself, and I'll smash all of this stuff to pieces. But then he
knew he would do no such thing. The truth is, if I get out of here
I'll never, ever come back to this place.
    An iron rod protruding from
some unseen apparatus caught Ned in the stomach, doubling him over
in pain. He rolled off it and hit the floor again. This time he
stayed there, gasping, and then sobbing to himself. He didn't want
to move anymore, come what may. If there really were phantoms, let
them come and take him, once and for all. Get it over with. But
nothing happened. Ned lay in darkness and silence, the only sound
that of his own breathing. He felt vaguely embarrassed as if he
were too small and insignificant for them to bother with. Ned forced
himself up and went on toward the gray light. In his mind he could
almost picture the presence at his back, a shadowy figure that
sneered down on him, saying, Go, little
boy, you are safe now but you can be taken anytime, anywhere
....
    The light, what little there was of it, came
from a stairway. The door at the top stood open. Now that Ned had
finally reached this point he felt no joy or relief, just an odd
sense of deflation. He walked up the stairs and came out in a large
round room. Ned guessed it had once been the spa's lobby and
reception area. Now it was empty, the floor strewn with chunks of
plaster, broken glass, beer cans, Twinkies wrappers and other
rubbish. Paint hung in long, tattered strips from the walls. A
massive staircase circled up four flights around the open well to
the uppermost floor, which was topped by the framework of a huge
skylight. Most of the glass was broken, by storms and vandals and
sheer neglect, Ned thought, but he could see how impressive the
place must have been at one time. It still was, in a way. He also
noticed that his sense of time was apparently way off the mark.
Wandering through the cellar had seemed to take hours and he
thought it would have to be after nine o'clock by now, but the sky
was still too bright. Could it be only six-thirty or seven? Maybe
this was a place where time slowed down .... An abandoned paper
wasp's nest lay on the floor at Ned's feet, and he kicked it away
idly. He had won. He had explored the spa from its far outer wall
to this front room. He had made it, in spite of all the obstacles
and difficulties. So why did he feel confused and even defeated
now?
    The front door was boarded up, but several
of the lower planks had been kicked loose and Ned saw that he would
have no trouble crawling out. Like a puppy. Before he got to the
door, however, he came to an abrupt stop. Words were scrawled in
the thick dust and grime on the floor. The letters seemed to writhe
like hideous snakes, but they held their shape.
    YOU WILL BE
    MINE AGAIN
    All the blood in Ned's body rushed to his
heart, which thundered and felt like it was about to explode.
Trembling but deliberate, Ned rubbed out the words, one by one,
with the toe of his sneaker. Then he was running as if his life
depended on it, running down the long sloping drive away from the
spa, through bushes and across the disused railroad bed, running
from he knew not what, slowing a little only when he found himself
at last on familiar streets with regular houses.
     
    For an hour and a half