ATTENTION: You now have less than six days to reach for your copy of Lights Out! Have a look, won't you:
A floorboard creaked overhead.
He stopped, looking up. Then he glanced back down at the door. The light glowed warmly. He backed away and made for the stairs.
He took them two at a time. The shadows deepened, clogging the corners and the ceiling. It seemed to grow darker the higher he climbed, the air hotter and thicker. It made his fingers flex around the gun in his hand. He made it to the top step and that was when the smell hit him. His eyes watered from too much Pine-Sol and ammonia that did nothing to cut the underlying stench of stale sweat and sex. He blinked the sweat out of his eyes, feeling it bead along his scalp as he quickly rounded the first corner he came to.
Keep moving, keep moving, he chanted to himself. Do not stop and think about this. Just keep going. The hallway stretched about thirty feet in front of him before it veered sharply to the right. It was dusty-gray with shadows, dim from lack of light. Wall-mounted sconces were unlit. The window at the far end was painted black. He ventured forward, carefully as if wading through unchartered waters. Holding the gun out in front of him, he slid quietly to the next corner.