Bina tries to say h-h-hhello to the thi -
It lunges at her, pulling free of the washing machine.
Bina stumbles back, almost losing her footing again.
It's back legs, as they emerge from the washing machine, look wrong somehow, even more than the rest of it.
>Try and find some sort of weapon. If you can get behind it there's the mop-thing. If not, bleach in its eyes.
Weapon weapon weapon! Something. Anything!
Dang, if it's not made of clothes then I guess laundry supplies would be useless against it. Quick roll around the end of the washing machines and grab that hamper under the change/meat machine; throw it over the thing's head to momentarily confuse it & buy yourself a few precious seconds.
If she could get the garbage over it's head - but, oh god it almost on her, there's no time to reverse her grip.
Bina swings the garbage can at the thing underhand. It's almost empty and nearly weightless, but the unexpected impact seems to distract it for a second.
run around it and out the doorrr
Bina leaps over the thing, and runs for the door. The turgid air of the laundromat, thick with the strange dry smell of the dirty water, feeling almost cool for an instant in her haste.
She just has to round the washers and get out the door, then she'll be safe.
Just round the washers and out the door, and all this will make sense again.
Just round the washers and -
- and then it grabs her.
It's not fair, Bina thinks, falling, it shouldn't be that fast. It's not allowed to be that fast!
Bina hits the tiles, hard, her hip screams at her, shrill and insistent.
It's already moving, dragging at her, it's limbs a blur, not like a mammal, almost insect-like in its frantic haste.