Categories > Original > Horror > gjnhjfdhns
gjnhjfdhns: Part FORTY-FIVE: Eyes Unopened
It was cold. Cold and damp. The kind of damp you feel when you touch cement on a windy day. The kind of cement that is cracked and rough. The kind of wind that seems to have no origin but comes from all around. My thin sweater was doing nothing but hinder my movements. I took it off and ran my hands along my upper arms, feeling the goosebumps. Feeling the cuts. I had scratches all over. They were healing, most of them already scabs.
How did I get these?... How long have I been here?... Where is here?
I rubbed my eyes, trying to get them to adjust to the darkness. The only light came from a tiny bulb on the far wall, and barely even reached my fingertips. The only thing it did was show me how many shadows I was surrounded by. Tentatively, I crawled forward, letting my hands preceed my body. I felt along the rough, frigid concrete and soon my fingers bumped into something equally hard and cold- but vertical. My fingers curled around it, it being an iron bar. My eyes widened; I moved my hands to the left, to the right, to the right after the right: Bar. Bar. Bar.
Sh-t!
I pulled myself up with the bars, looking for some sort of handle or latch or anything to open the door, to make the cage disappear. There was nothing. The little footage of jail cells I'd seen and read about didn't help any. I started crawling again, this time in the other direction, the harsh floor biting my skin through my clothing. My forward hand bumped into something still cold, but less than the concrete.
A... A flashlight!
I sat back on my heels, feeling for its switch and pushing it into the 'on' position.
Still dark.
"There were bat...teries next to ... the ligh... t."
I froze, a shiver crawling up my spine and leaving me stunned. The voice had sounded to be just in front of me, and as though the person was having trouble speaking through some sort of static. Was there a radio there? Or a monitor? But how could they see me? I couldn't even see myself!
"Wh- What?" I choked out, my voice breathless.
"Bat...teries. Next to ... ligh... t."
I felt the floor around me and, sure enough, I felt two batteries. I unscrewed the top of the flashlight and set it in my lap.
"Plus... side firs...t."
I felt for the little bump at the end of the batteries and slid them in. I twisted the light back into place and pushed the switch. A strong beam of light burst forth and illuminated the speaker in front of me, who was a head.
A head and nothing else.
I dropped the light, startled, and opened my mouth, but no sound came out.
"Guess... you got... the ligh... t on."
I grabbed the flashlight and shone it back at the head, which was rather clean- where the stub of its neck ended, there was no blood, or any other bodily fluid. It did look like it had been there for a while, though, because its chestnut hair was chin-length and messy.
Can a disembodied head grow its hair, though?
Its eyes were milky white, and, thinking about its earlier statement, I came to the conclusion that, living or not, it was blind.
"How can you talk?" Before it answered, its static-y voice made me think of something that could rationalize all this. "Are you talking through a walkie-talkie or something?"
"I wish... it were tha...t sim...ple." Its mouth moved as it replied, and I felt suddenly ill. "To be ho... nest, I do n...ot know wha...t he did. I do... know I w...as dea...d. I thin...k."
"'He'? You mean that guy with the huge claw? Did he kill you?"
"N...o. My mur...der...er was... old...er. He ha...d the gri...n of a... Dev...il."
I rubbed my forehead. This was getting to be too much. Okay, it had crossed the line of "too much" a long time ago, but I had just woken up. "Where are we?"
"We are... here."
I gave the head a sardonic look, though I knew it couldn't see it. "Where is here?"
"Hi...s ter...ritor...y."
If that wasn't foreboding enough, there was a loud crash somewhere nearby. I fumbled to keep the light from falling and- God forbid- breaking on the ground. "What the hell was that?"
"Re... lease... Turn off... the ligh...t and ho...pe they... pass y...ou by."
I did as I was told. The light was replaced by that unfriendly darkness, but this time, I was awake and alert. There were more crashes, coming in quick succession, and the closer they came, the easier it was to make out just what that noise was; it sounded like gates sliding open on weathered rails. Soon, I waited for my cell to open, but instead, a blinding light flooded the room. I fell backward, squinting and trying to shield my fragile retinas.
When I recovered, the crashing had stopped, and the room around me was cleaner than I expected it to be. It looked like a plain jail cell, save for the head on the bed. There was a speaker on the ceiling next to one of the lights, and it crackled on with a voice that made me curl my fingers into fists.
"Good morning, old patrons and new friends. Today is a new day with a new surprise. My new friends," the man laughed here, a laugh that on the surface sounded warm and personable, but deeper down held a sneer of contempt, "you will find that your gates haven't been opened. This is to give the race a bit of a challenge. You will be racing to escape, but you'll have to find out where that is on your own. Mind you, though, this isn't just a friendly little run: One of the patrons has been given free reign of the facilities. He will be stalking your every move, though he isn't very fast. Use this. Do not let him catch up to you, or you will regret it."
I ran up to the bars and looked down the halls, finding a dark figure at one end. Darkness seemed to follow him, eating at his surroundings, and he was walking this way.
"Use your heads to find escape," said the man on the speakers, a smile in his voice. "And to the old patrons... When he passes your cell, your game begins. The goal is to not let our new friends leave this place alive.
"Have fun!"
His voice was then replaced by confusingly bright elevator music that made this whole thing seem like some kind of sick joke. I stumbled backward into the uneven wall behind me and put my face in my hands.
It was cold. Cold and damp. The kind of damp you feel when you touch cement on a windy day. The kind of cement that is cracked and rough. The kind of wind that seems to have no origin but comes from all around. My thin sweater was doing nothing but hinder my movements. I took it off and ran my hands along my upper arms, feeling the goosebumps. Feeling the cuts. I had scratches all over. They were healing, most of them already scabs.
How did I get these?... How long have I been here?... Where is here?
I rubbed my eyes, trying to get them to adjust to the darkness. The only light came from a tiny bulb on the far wall, and barely even reached my fingertips. The only thing it did was show me how many shadows I was surrounded by. Tentatively, I crawled forward, letting my hands preceed my body. I felt along the rough, frigid concrete and soon my fingers bumped into something equally hard and cold- but vertical. My fingers curled around it, it being an iron bar. My eyes widened; I moved my hands to the left, to the right, to the right after the right: Bar. Bar. Bar.
Sh-t!
I pulled myself up with the bars, looking for some sort of handle or latch or anything to open the door, to make the cage disappear. There was nothing. The little footage of jail cells I'd seen and read about didn't help any. I started crawling again, this time in the other direction, the harsh floor biting my skin through my clothing. My forward hand bumped into something still cold, but less than the concrete.
A... A flashlight!
I sat back on my heels, feeling for its switch and pushing it into the 'on' position.
Still dark.
"There were bat...teries next to ... the ligh... t."
I froze, a shiver crawling up my spine and leaving me stunned. The voice had sounded to be just in front of me, and as though the person was having trouble speaking through some sort of static. Was there a radio there? Or a monitor? But how could they see me? I couldn't even see myself!
"Wh- What?" I choked out, my voice breathless.
"Bat...teries. Next to ... ligh... t."
I felt the floor around me and, sure enough, I felt two batteries. I unscrewed the top of the flashlight and set it in my lap.
"Plus... side firs...t."
I felt for the little bump at the end of the batteries and slid them in. I twisted the light back into place and pushed the switch. A strong beam of light burst forth and illuminated the speaker in front of me, who was a head.
A head and nothing else.
I dropped the light, startled, and opened my mouth, but no sound came out.
"Guess... you got... the ligh... t on."
I grabbed the flashlight and shone it back at the head, which was rather clean- where the stub of its neck ended, there was no blood, or any other bodily fluid. It did look like it had been there for a while, though, because its chestnut hair was chin-length and messy.
Can a disembodied head grow its hair, though?
Its eyes were milky white, and, thinking about its earlier statement, I came to the conclusion that, living or not, it was blind.
"How can you talk?" Before it answered, its static-y voice made me think of something that could rationalize all this. "Are you talking through a walkie-talkie or something?"
"I wish... it were tha...t sim...ple." Its mouth moved as it replied, and I felt suddenly ill. "To be ho... nest, I do n...ot know wha...t he did. I do... know I w...as dea...d. I thin...k."
"'He'? You mean that guy with the huge claw? Did he kill you?"
"N...o. My mur...der...er was... old...er. He ha...d the gri...n of a... Dev...il."
I rubbed my forehead. This was getting to be too much. Okay, it had crossed the line of "too much" a long time ago, but I had just woken up. "Where are we?"
"We are... here."
I gave the head a sardonic look, though I knew it couldn't see it. "Where is here?"
"Hi...s ter...ritor...y."
If that wasn't foreboding enough, there was a loud crash somewhere nearby. I fumbled to keep the light from falling and- God forbid- breaking on the ground. "What the hell was that?"
"Re... lease... Turn off... the ligh...t and ho...pe they... pass y...ou by."
I did as I was told. The light was replaced by that unfriendly darkness, but this time, I was awake and alert. There were more crashes, coming in quick succession, and the closer they came, the easier it was to make out just what that noise was; it sounded like gates sliding open on weathered rails. Soon, I waited for my cell to open, but instead, a blinding light flooded the room. I fell backward, squinting and trying to shield my fragile retinas.
When I recovered, the crashing had stopped, and the room around me was cleaner than I expected it to be. It looked like a plain jail cell, save for the head on the bed. There was a speaker on the ceiling next to one of the lights, and it crackled on with a voice that made me curl my fingers into fists.
"Good morning, old patrons and new friends. Today is a new day with a new surprise. My new friends," the man laughed here, a laugh that on the surface sounded warm and personable, but deeper down held a sneer of contempt, "you will find that your gates haven't been opened. This is to give the race a bit of a challenge. You will be racing to escape, but you'll have to find out where that is on your own. Mind you, though, this isn't just a friendly little run: One of the patrons has been given free reign of the facilities. He will be stalking your every move, though he isn't very fast. Use this. Do not let him catch up to you, or you will regret it."
I ran up to the bars and looked down the halls, finding a dark figure at one end. Darkness seemed to follow him, eating at his surroundings, and he was walking this way.
"Use your heads to find escape," said the man on the speakers, a smile in his voice. "And to the old patrons... When he passes your cell, your game begins. The goal is to not let our new friends leave this place alive.
"Have fun!"
His voice was then replaced by confusingly bright elevator music that made this whole thing seem like some kind of sick joke. I stumbled backward into the uneven wall behind me and put my face in my hands.
Sign up to rate and review this story