The Light at the End of the Tunnel

Nothing much new to report on the writing front, save for the 9 new sentences I wrote today. I hope to have this story finished by Friday, but I think I'll shoot for NEXT Friday instead. Might be that I even do a second draft by then. We'll see. For now, here's the story so far:

He walked to the door not realizing he was about to die. He should have known, though. The door was locked. The janitor always unlocked the door in the morning for him.15 years and the janitor never forgot. What was going on? He tried the door knob again. Locked. He heard a scuffling sound and then a muffled bark of laughter and what sounded like a yelp of pain. Two kids, perhaps, groping each other. He smiled at the thought, remembering what it was like to be a teen again. Another giggle, this time much louder, sounding very sinister. He reached into his pocket for his keys. He was unnerved by the laughter, but his composure remained. It was just some randy students, he told himself again. He had been through worse many times before. He heard soft metallic clicks within as he brought the room key to the keyhole. He froze. That sound was familiar to him. As familiar as own family. Bullets being loaded into a magazine. Not here, not now! This was NOT happening! Not at my school. If he had known what was really going on on the other side of the door, he would have run right then and forgotten all that he had heard. But he was a scientist at heart and by profession. Curiosity came with the territory, and fear never stopped him from investigating. He grabbed his keys from his pocket. As his fingers worked to find the right key, he looked at the doorknob and became more confused by the situation. Where a keyhole is supposed to be was instead a smooth sphere. He looked left and then right and then up at the room placard. In place of numbers was "BANGFUCKIMDEAD". Now he KNEW someone was fucking with him. He banged on the door and turned the doorknob again. There was a loud dry sucking sound, like someone sucking on the straw of an empty glass of soda trying to get those last few drops. And like someone flicking a light switch, he was inside his classroom.