thanks for that. i may do, i'm not sure. i've never worked with requests, i usually just spout whatever pops into my head onto 'paper' for these particular stories.
---
Sleeping Chamber
Its only been two weeks since I woke up, and I still think I'm on another planet.
“Hey, Georgie, they don't sell Daronoff any more. Its all Hale's, now.”
“Well that's not good.” I said in defence. A poor defence.
I placed my pint glass on the side of the bar, and picked up my coat.
“Where you off to?”
“Home, Jim.”
Your house is like a fortress. A fortress for your mind. What's the difference between a fortress and a prison, anyway?
“Nothing.” I muttered, smiling, as I drunkenly made my way through the night.
Yeah, that's right. Nothing. They both keep people in a certain place, its just one keeps people in, and the other keeps people out.
“You're right, there.”
I know I'm right. I always have been.
I brush past the dewy bush just by my garden gate, water soaking my right side, and clumsily open the front door. That key is always hard to get in. I swear.
I stagger inside, turn on the living room light, and fall into a chair. I see something move out of the corner of my eye. Like a face.
I look quickly, but there's nothing.
They're here again, Georgie.
“Well I don't want them to be here, I want them to leave. Now.” I say sharply.
HEY
I spin in my seat, looking at the dark corner of the room. Instantly I think they're behind me, so I spin the other way. Nothing on both sides.
Georgie, I think you should leave this house.
“I'm not leaving for them.”
Then you're a fool, Georgie. Soon to be a dead one.
I hear clicking from up the stairs. I wander out of the dim living room towards the bottom of the stairs, and look up them into the darkness.
“There's no way i'm sleeping up there tonight.”
This is your own fault, Georgie.
“I know. How many times do you want me to say it?”
Ever since I had made that stupid mistake of volunteering to be a guinea pig for those 'scientists' and their Sleeping Chamber, thing's hadn't exactly gone swimmingly. For a start, I had been asleep for just over two years. To be honest, it was more like a coma. During that time, my wife died due to a brain tumour that had gone unnoticed for all that time. Once I awoke, I had been haunted by whatever the fuck they were, and guided by my own conscience. That voice, I swear, it kept me alive at times.
But tonight was going to be different. Tonight, in my drunken state of mind, I've been thinking clearer than ever. It must end. I've only been out of the Sleeping Chamber for two weeks, but so much has happened. I need to rest. With my wife.
I head to the kitchen, and switch on the light. There they are; my kitchen knife set.
What're you going to do?
“Suspicious?”
Naturally.
“Heh, you've been good to me. But I must be insane, as I'm talking to myself.”
Nothing wrong with that.
I hear noises behind me. Animal-like noises.
“No. This is it, now.”
I stride over to the knife set as fast as my drunken legs will allow, and pull one out at random.
Don't be so stupid.
The face. Its coming. I can feel it. Its hideous face, looking for me. They did something they shouldn't have while I was in that chamber. Something that's angered something else. I just don't know. Why me? What did they do to me in there? That's why I was in a coma, the bastards. It was them.
Think about this, Georgie.
“I already have.” I say out loud, terrified of what's coming.
I take the knife. I put its cold edge against my wrist, and pull down quick and hard. The pain, and then the blood. Its an odd sensation. It becomes hard to grip the knife with the other hand, and the handle is already slippery with blood, but I try my best to cut my other wrist also. I fail, and slide down the cupboard onto the floor.
“Jesus. How morbid.” I say, feeling a little light-headed already.
You silly, silly man!
“Bah, don't worry. I'll b...be alright.”
The face is coming for me. It wishes to devour me. I cannot hold on.
I slip into, what seems like, nothingness. Black. Then I realise I have merely closed my eye's. I open them again and see the giant face before me. I scrunch my eyes shut and yell “No! I was meant to go!” My arms feel too heavy to try and lift to protect myself.
It's lost, but so have you, Georgie. You've both lost. You old fool, George.
“Geor...George?”
It's me, baby. I'll see you on the other side, hopefully.
---
ANOTHER ONE FOR YA
|