65.......66
Since Halloween is coming up fairly soon, I figured this old little piece would do some good. Hope you all enjoy!
DIIIIIiiiiinnnnng DOOooonnng...
Jacob's eyes snap open, jerking awake as the bell echoes throughout the room. It is less a room and more a hallway, with seats lining two walls opposite each other. The walls are a typical hospital-white, with clear lighting emanating from the ceiling. A slightly flickering light can be seen at the far end of the "hall". People murmur quietly, trying their best not to break the silence, even though the distorted noise of the bell does it well enough. Some even venture so far as to give a slight giggle. Maybe they were sharing a joke? A wiry man, weary and weather-worn, or so he appeared, clutches a piece of scrap paper as he steps through a door situated under a digital counter.
Jacob gives a wary look at the digital counter. It says 65. The bell rang every time the number changed. Every time, the bell would emit a sound that was just shy of horrifying. The staff explained that a "punk kid" messed with the wires and thus the distortion. That wasn't the reason why it was so quiet in the Waiting Room though; there was another reason...
He fiddles with his scrap of paper as he waits. He feels nervous, though he didn't know why. His eyes wander aimlessly, restlessly, looking for anything to keep him from his growing nervousness. The digital counter tantalizes him, with its glaring red crystallized numbers. If he stared at it long enough, it would appear to be beating, with the light getting brighter then dimmer. He could have sworn that it seemed to be "beating" faster.
"I think it's your turn son..." A rather obese man with peculiar, almost translucent eyes spoke softly to him.
He jerks at the sound of the man's voice. All eyes are on him. Every single unnerving, pale, shining eye was on him and only him. Their expressions wear that of expectation, almost a grim hatred at his slow reaction. He tries his best to stay composed. He stares at the digital counter again. It is beating faster...
DIIIIIiiing DOOooooonnnnngggg....
66
He looks down at his scrap of paper. He could've sworn the "ink" was blood, a red so deep it couldn't be anything else. The number 66 is scrawled onto his paper. It's his turn now.
His heart is screaming at him, beating faster as he steps toward the door. He can’t stop it. He can’t stop the lights in the Waiting Room from flickering off one by one either. He turns the knob.
Complete darkness.
"Please open your eyes, sir."
He didn't realize his eyes were closed. Slowly, he let himself open his eyes.
A single light illuminates the room, but it is enough. The whole room is in a pristine white. He feels as though his eyes wouldn't stand another second in the blatant bright white around him. A lady is staring at him, expressionless. Her white suit is clean, lined with a dark silk lining that casts images of bloodied rope on Jacob's mind. Hair flows down her head, though it doesn't cover her face. She wears glasses, though what brand he couldn't really tell.
He stares incredulously at her. She looks normal enough, though he couldn't settle down the feeling that something is wrong. A single chair is situated in the middle of the room. The lady motions for him to look at the chair. He blinks.
Screaming. He can hear screaming, but he doesn't know where it's coming from. He blinks again.
A girl, hair all a mess, is strapped to the chair. She is naked, and she is screaming. Thin lines of red go down to the floor. The screaming becomes louder. He can't seem to keep his eyes off of her. A wave of nausea flows through him, almost making him sink to his knees, but he stays standing. His knees shake. The thin lines widen, and she screams even more. He can see the wounds deepen. The wounds are rough, deep, and it takes all of his strength to continue looking. He simply cannot stop looking. He blinks once.
He can't move. He looks at the lady in the suit in surprise.
"You'll be fine..." she smiles strangely.
A sharp pain surges through his arms, legs, and chest. He feels his muscles starting to tear; he can feel blood flowing out slowly. He screams. The pain surges over and over, never ceasing. The wounds go deeper, deeper, ‘til he can feel something hit his bones. His bones start to break. He screams even louder. Dimly, he can see the girl he just watched being dragged away towards the door. She's still screaming. His mind slowly fades, his screams fading with it...
DIIIIIiiiiinnnnng DOOooonnng...
Jacob's eyes snap open, jerking awake as the bell echoes throughout the room...
Jacob's eyes snap open, jerking awake as the bell echoes throughout the room. It is less a room and more a hallway, with seats lining two walls opposite each other. The walls are a typical hospital-white, with clear lighting emanating from the ceiling. A slightly flickering light can be seen at the far end of the "hall". People murmur quietly, trying their best not to break the silence, even though the distorted noise of the bell does it well enough. Some even venture so far as to give a slight giggle. Maybe they were sharing a joke? A wiry man, weary and weather-worn, or so he appeared, clutches a piece of scrap paper as he steps through a door situated under a digital counter.
Jacob gives a wary look at the digital counter. It says 65. The bell rang every time the number changed. Every time, the bell would emit a sound that was just shy of horrifying. The staff explained that a "punk kid" messed with the wires and thus the distortion. That wasn't the reason why it was so quiet in the Waiting Room though; there was another reason...
He fiddles with his scrap of paper as he waits. He feels nervous, though he didn't know why. His eyes wander aimlessly, restlessly, looking for anything to keep him from his growing nervousness. The digital counter tantalizes him, with its glaring red crystallized numbers. If he stared at it long enough, it would appear to be beating, with the light getting brighter then dimmer. He could have sworn that it seemed to be "beating" faster.
"I think it's your turn son..." A rather obese man with peculiar, almost translucent eyes spoke softly to him.
He jerks at the sound of the man's voice. All eyes are on him. Every single unnerving, pale, shining eye was on him and only him. Their expressions wear that of expectation, almost a grim hatred at his slow reaction. He tries his best to stay composed. He stares at the digital counter again. It is beating faster...
DIIIIIiiing DOOooooonnnnngggg....
66
He looks down at his scrap of paper. He could've sworn the "ink" was blood, a red so deep it couldn't be anything else. The number 66 is scrawled onto his paper. It's his turn now.
His heart is screaming at him, beating faster as he steps toward the door. He can’t stop it. He can’t stop the lights in the Waiting Room from flickering off one by one either. He turns the knob.
Complete darkness.
"Please open your eyes, sir."
He didn't realize his eyes were closed. Slowly, he let himself open his eyes.
A single light illuminates the room, but it is enough. The whole room is in a pristine white. He feels as though his eyes wouldn't stand another second in the blatant bright white around him. A lady is staring at him, expressionless. Her white suit is clean, lined with a dark silk lining that casts images of bloodied rope on Jacob's mind. Hair flows down her head, though it doesn't cover her face. She wears glasses, though what brand he couldn't really tell.
He stares incredulously at her. She looks normal enough, though he couldn't settle down the feeling that something is wrong. A single chair is situated in the middle of the room. The lady motions for him to look at the chair. He blinks.
Screaming. He can hear screaming, but he doesn't know where it's coming from. He blinks again.
A girl, hair all a mess, is strapped to the chair. She is naked, and she is screaming. Thin lines of red go down to the floor. The screaming becomes louder. He can't seem to keep his eyes off of her. A wave of nausea flows through him, almost making him sink to his knees, but he stays standing. His knees shake. The thin lines widen, and she screams even more. He can see the wounds deepen. The wounds are rough, deep, and it takes all of his strength to continue looking. He simply cannot stop looking. He blinks once.
He can't move. He looks at the lady in the suit in surprise.
"You'll be fine..." she smiles strangely.
A sharp pain surges through his arms, legs, and chest. He feels his muscles starting to tear; he can feel blood flowing out slowly. He screams. The pain surges over and over, never ceasing. The wounds go deeper, deeper, ‘til he can feel something hit his bones. His bones start to break. He screams even louder. Dimly, he can see the girl he just watched being dragged away towards the door. She's still screaming. His mind slowly fades, his screams fading with it...
DIIIIIiiiiinnnnng DOOooonnng...
Jacob's eyes snap open, jerking awake as the bell echoes throughout the room...
personally too scared to read this... sorry lol
ReplyDeleteOh come on EJ :)
ReplyDelete