Peanut Butter Will Be My DeathMature

Thankfully the intercom advertisement had jammed, no more annoying talking, no more commentating on the inevitable...

As I strolled through the door that led into, what once was, a hospital cafeteria a stench wafted through my nostrils. The smeel churned my stomach and instinctively my teeth grinded together.

The smell dug into my core and decided to seek shelter there, refusing to leave, it smelt like peanuts... Peanut Butter doesn't have a bad smell the first time one lays a nose on its scent, after that however is when the  effluvium problems arise.

Of all the scents in all the world I thought. The smell repulsed me to such an extent that I had no other choice but to retrieve the gas mask from my ruck sack and use it. I flung the strap around the back of my head and attatched it. Excellent I thought. With my jacket in hand and with one of my sense recoperating, I leisurely walked toward the kitchen door.

Standing at only six foot two inches and the door only being about six foot, I had to duck down. Just as I brought my head down the door swung open at an incredible speed and collided straight into my head...

I went down, hard. The metal door swung back to reveal what could only be described as a black man, that looked like a cross between an american footballer and a heavy weight boxer on steroids. He grinned, that evil maniacal grin. Has he been waiting for someone, someone foolish like me?

It was then that I noticed the blood on the tables around the basketball court sized room. It was then that I did the elenmentary school maths. The peanut butter was his, it lured people to the kitchen in the hope of food, then he used the door and then....

He reached over his left shoulder and removed one of the two glimmering scimitars from the sheathes that had remained hidden on his back.

... And then he killed the poor fool who was feeling a little hungry.

The End

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