Another Writing Practice

This was also intended as a writing practice!
~Samuel

Fleks ran as hard as he could, but he could feel the shadows gaining on him. He considered turning to fight but the sane side of his brain quickly reminded him of the overwhelming numbers on his heels. He looked up again, his breath coming in desperate gasps. He could see the door ahead of him, but it was slowly closing, a huge metal slab grinding down steadily. It was several moments before he realized that tears were escaping down his cheeks. He wouldn’t be stopped this time. He couldn’t. Every time Vandham escaped him, his anger grew. Every time the tyrant who had destroyed society, wiped out his friends and family, and forced all into submission under his extraordinary power escaped, his anger rose. Vandham believed that he only had to keep running, that Fleks’ anger would be his undoing, but as his emotions intensified, he learned to control and focus it. Fleks would not be consumed by anger. It was his strength. 

But as Fleks ran onwards, the door inexorably drew lower. The shadows behind him screeched as they realized he was escaping. One desperate monster leapt for him, grabbing for his shoulder, but Fleks threw a wild punch behind him. He must have hit it because it fell back among the others with a screech. The door was only meters away now, but only feet from the floor. At the last second, Fleks threw himself forward, sliding right under the door with feet to spare. He was about to get up when something jerked on his leg. glancing behind him, he saw one of the hideous shadow monsters clutching onto his foot. Fleks shook his foot wildly and tried to pull it out of the monster’s grip but he only succeeded in pulling the thing closer to him. He thought about attacking it with his sword but he couldn’t get it out while he was sitting on it. His mind raced. The monster growled. The door was only centimeters away from his foot. Just before the door touched Fleks’ foot, he drew on all his strength and pulled the arm of the beast under the door. It still refused to let go, so the door closed on it’s arm with a sickening crunch. Shaking the limp hand off his foot, Fleks got to his feet. And groaned in frustration. Through the door he had seen an elevator which would take him all the way to the ground floor of the building where Vandham was hiding. It should be here. Instead, He was back where he started. A solid wall behind him, three corridors in front of him, one maintenance duct above.

“This place is a maze, isn’t it?” Came a disembodied voice from the shadows.

“Where are you?” replied Fleks. “Who are you?”

“It is a labyrinth, in the truest sense of the word. The corridors literally re-arrange themselves. It would be safer to face Vandham’s guards than traverse this deathtrap.”

Fleks narrowed his eyes. “How do you know I’m after Vandham? And there is no way I could beat all his guards.” 

“Nonsense. I have seen you fight. Your skill surpasses any I have seen. And It always helps to have an ally.”

“Who are you?” said Fleks in exasperation, his anger rising. In response, the voice stepped out of the shadows, becoming a skinny man wearing layers of tattered cloaks under an old metal breastplate. A mask with a thin slit for eyes and a single thin ridge running all the way down the front obscured his face.

“Let’s just say I am a concerned individual. You can call me Svek. You still have your sword?” 

Fleks nodded. “And an old pistol.”

“Excellent. Then let’s go get Vandham. I’m sure we’ll make a great team.”

What do you guys think?