Panic Room Creative Writing

As I opened the door to the panic room, I realized something…I had opened the door to the panic room. A place that when entered should have been locked should've been sealed so that nothing less than a tank could get through the door. Something was definitely awry. I released the handle and my hand came away sticky. It was blood, who's I didn't know but the handle was coated in it. Now that the ash no longer clouded my vision I could see that the panic room was pristine as ever. The walls unlike their fellows outside in the hall, were crisp and colorless. All except for the maroon streak that crawled along the floor oozing from a sizzling wound in someone's leg.

It was May, her chest heaving, her hands coated in the blackened blood. The acrid stench of burning flesh now filling my nostrils. With each breath, she whimpered slightly, even though she was evidently unconscious. Her face like mine had been riddled with slits and cuts from some sort of shrapnel. And one eye was swollen and purple to the point of making my stomach turn. She suddenly gasped and grabbed my wrist. I jerked in surprise as the grip tightened sending throbbing pain up my already bruised arm.

"It was Mark." She gasped. "Martin, he did this. We were monitoring you like normal and he suddenly
I strapped May into the miniature med-bays table. I then entered the cockpit and was blasted with noise from every direction. The noise emanated from the entire space, glowing red caution signs blinking on every screen possible. Apparently, the craft was tipping. I jumped into the pilot's seat, the tilt now apparent as objects not secured began to slide across the floor. Luckily the pilots seat was on a gyroscope and I was able to activate the engines without difficulty. The craft bucked and jerked as the winds buffeted it, and the engines whines and coughed as the dust entered and left being churned by the