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gjnhjfdhns: Part THIRTY-SEVEN: Cramped

The seats, though soft and cozy, were very uncomfortable. It was probably a psychological thing- They could've been made out of memory foam and fleece, and I knew I'd still feel like I was sitting in a chair made of nails. The cabin, though beautifully decorated, held the atmosphere of a torture chamber. No matter how many fancy luxuries were crammed in there, it still held the feeling of impending doom. It was in the corners, in the dusty little crannies where light never seemed to stay- Those were where the screams came from.

We had been seated in front of a desk, strapped into the seats so tight, I'd be surprised if we didn't leave an imprint. The chair behind the desk- the fancy, big-business-man chair- was empty.

"This is f-cked."

"No kidding."

"Why didn't you open the door?!"

"What?" Wide-eyed, I stared at Mitchell. "You're /kidding/!"

"No. No, I'm not. Why didn't you?"

"I didn't know there was a door!" I groaned, hitting my head against the chair. "It disappeared!"

"F-ck, man... You need more than glasses...!"

"Shut up." I frowned, my fingers pressing against the seat belt buckle. The thing had to be jammed or something, and it was way too tight to wiggle out of. "What's the matter with this thing!?"

Mitchell tried his, too, and had the same result. "It's just like everything else here: F-cked. Got anything sharp?"

"I wish. The last sharp thing I had was that pole-thing from the hospital. Why'd we chuck those, anyway?"

"Don't ask me..."

I closed my eyes, folded my arms on my lap and rested my head on them. "Oh-ho-ho... We are so screwed, aren't we..."

In an eerily falsetto voice, Mitchell replied, "Like a lightbulb!"

I snickered.

The door opened, and we strained to turn around and see who was coming in. It was not physically possible to even turn in those seats, so I counted the steps as they came closer.

1... 2... 3... 4... Whoever it was should be right behind us.

5... 6... Right beside us. But I couldn't see a thing.

7... 8... Couldn't see a thing.

9... A thing...

10... A thing was dripping down from the ceiling, into the chair. It was like watching a shadow fall and materialize as soon as it hit something solid. Not before long, the man from before revealed himself, sitting in that chair behind the desk as though it were a throne. He had that pleasant, personable smile on his face, but it dropped into a frown.

"I see you've made it. How disappointing..."

"What/? What the f-ck are you talking about?" Mitchell snapped, his features twisted into a visage of disgust. "/You're the one who ordered us here!"

"I never expected you to just go along with it," he replied, as if it were completely obvious.

"We didn't!" I hissed. "But it's kinda hard to resist with twenty-some-odd people ganging up on you!" He sighed, looking like he was trying to explain something to a two-year-old. "Oh, f-ck you, guy!"

He rose a brow before pulling something out of his desk. I could hear the sound of pen on paper, and had the sudden image of a psychiatrist's room.

"What're you doing?"

He straightened his posture. "Nothing."

"No, seriously. What're you doing?"

"It's none of your business. Goodbye, now." He replaced whatever he had taken out of the desk, stood up, and began to walk out of the room.

"Huh? What?"

"I said, 'goodbye now'." You could virtually hear the smirk in his voice, even when the door clicked shut. Before we were able to take in another full breath, we heard a loud beep come from a speaker, followed by the voice of the man we had just spoken to. "Attention, passengers, please put on your seatbelts, we'll now be departing. Mild turbulence is to be expected, but enjoy the flight."

"Is he serious? He can't be serious!" I gasped, trying to twist out of my seat. The ground beneath our feet began to rumble, and I felt all my internal organs leap into my throat.

"He's f-cking serious!" Mitchell yelled, now frantically ripping at the seat belt, desperate to escape.

The floor shook again, though this time, it was accompanied by a booming noise, one that had originated from in front of us. Horrified, we watched as a figure rose from its crouching position. I could see it was huge- bigger than two of the tallest people I knew, and equipped with freakishly large muscles. The thing's skin looked and even sounded like metal armor! It turned, revealing a face so mutilated, I wasn't sure if it had ever been human. Not even Picasso would call that scratched up, sloppily stitched thing a face! I could see its mouth, though, and it was baring its crooked, mishapen teeth in a menacing scowl. It jumped forward and landed on the desk, crushing it easily underneath its great mass, and brandished toward us a giant butcher knife- which desperately needed to be cleaned.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my GOD!" I screamed. It jumped again, pounding the splinters of desk into the carpet. Savagely, I scraped at my seat belt, wishing desperately for it to come off, for the seat belts to disappear or something, just to get free.

Miraculously, it did. I stared at it, stunned into silence.

An inhuman roar shocked me back to life, reminding me about the current life-threatening situation at hand. I made a mad dash for the door /but it wasn't there/.

"This isn't fair anymore!" I screamed, resisting the urge to bang my head against the wall. "MITCHELL!" He looked over from the seat he was hiding behind. I pointed to the wall. "DOOR?" He shook his head. "Any- Anywhere?"

The answer was no.

"WE'RE /SCREWED/!" I shrieked out a string of curses, before noticing that the thing with the huge butcher knife was /headed my way/. I leapt to the side, taking off running as soon as my feet touched the ground. "What do we do /now/!?"

"Windows?" Mitchell hollered, diving to the ground to avoid getting his head chopped off.

"None!" I knelt behind the big, fancy chair, watching as the thing caught its breath, crude eyes darting around the room. It didn't look like it had heard us, because it wasn't making any moves. "Mi- Mitchell...!" The thing did nothing. "Mitchell, where are you?"

"Shut up!" he hissed.

"I don't think it can hear!" I yelled. To my relief, the thing did not move.

"You're right!" He sat up, and I saw his head poke over the seat he was in earlier. The thing's eyes darted in his direction, and it grunted.

"Mitchell! Get down! It's- It's like its sight is awesome to compensate for its hearing, y'know?!"

He ducked down, disappearing from my view and, thankfully, the creature's.

I let out a long breath, looking over the rubble that had once been a very nice desk. I saw the white corner of paper sticking out beneath a piece of wood, and reached out toward it. Another grunt. Looking up, I met the eyes of the thing- Or, you know, at least one of them.

Stupid stupid stupid! Curiousity killed the cat!

It took a step toward me, and then another, and then another, and then it was running. It pushed itself off the ground, flying at me. I threw myself backward, my head hitting the not-so-soft carpet. The thing flew right over me and disappeared.

I blinked, bolting to my feet. "What the hell!?"

"It- It ran through the wall..." Mitchell explained, looking just as stunned as I felt.

I put my hand on the wall, and it was as solid as a block of marble. "No, seriously."

"It ran through the f-cking wall."

"Jesus!" I hissed, stepping away from the wall. "Jesus Christ/! Jesus, Lord and Savior! This is /so uncool!"

Mitchell felt along the wall, knocking and tapping at random intervals. I remembered the paper, and whirled back to the rubble of the desk. The corner was still there, stark white like a beacon against the backdrop of the dark wood. I was reminded of how, in Resident Evil 0 and such, useable items were shining or brighter than everything else. Leaning forward, I plucked it from the mess before me, and

"F-CKING SH-T!"

I turned, wide-eyed, to find that Mitchell was gone.