Museum of Horrors Part 6

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Encourage Writing Inc.


Something has gone wrong in the Museum of Horrors. The mistake of one could be the end for them all. Who will be left by the end of the night?

Submitted: March 16, 2018

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Submitted: March 16, 2018

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Museum of Horrors Part 6

So many ideas begin to form inside my mind on ways to use the hidden toothbrush.  I can’t lie, most of them are derived from TV shows or books I’ve read.  It could be whittled down to pick the door.  I may not have any experience with the subject, but it’s not like I don’t have any time.  It can’t hurt to try. 

Maybe it can be sharpened to a shiv?  It would be useful if I could get close enough to the guards to either stab them, or even hold one hostage.  I don’t know how I would be able to pull it off.  They always work in pairs and have their weapons at ready.  Even if I could get close enough, I wouldn’t look forward to bringing a knife to a gun fight.

I continue to pace my cell as I scramble for a plan.  My thighs continue to burn and itch as they heal.  I try to ignore the discomfort, but my focus shifts away with each painful step I take.  I grit my teeth in determination and move my focus back to my goal. 

My thighs burn and stretch with each ripple of muscle movement.  I can feel warm liquid leaking from the wounds.  Then, my left leg buckles from under me.  I catch myself on my hands, but its not enough.  I cry out in pain as I slam hard onto the ground.  The impact serves to only irritate the wounds further. 

The pain is unbearable now.  My body collapses in a heap to the ground, and I silently weep.  I weep for the people trapped in here.  I weep for the ones lost before me.  I weep for Claire.  Oh Claire…Just the thought of her name brings the image of her mangled body to my mind.

Rage flares through me at the thought of her broken body shoved unforgotten into a metal locker.  She deserves so much more than that.  I don’t have time to mourn or have self pity.  Once I see this place burned to the ground and have The Man buried 10 feet under, then I can grieve.  This has to end.

Taking slow deep breaths, I will my body to relax.  After a few minutes of absolute stillness the pain begins to ebb away bit by bit.  After a while, the pain eventually beings to feel like only a harsh sunburn.  Taking one more deep breath, I place both of my palms onto the floor and slowly ease up. 

My arms shake from the effort as I gradually get into a sitting position.  By the time I am able to situ p right with my legs stretched out, I’m exhausted.  I continue to avert my eyes from my thighs as I sit on the cold floor.  I don’t know why I keep prolonging the inevitable.  No matter how long I try to ignore it it won’t go away.  It’s like a child covering their face; as long as they don’t look, the monster isn’t real.  Unfortunately, the monster is real.  Very very real.

Quickly I look down before I have a chance to chicken out.  Part of me stares in awe and the other in disgust.  Curiosity wins out over the latter.  Scales.  They put scales on my thighs!  I can’t tell what creature it use to belong to.  A shudder runs through me at the thought of a dead animal sewn onto me.  I push past the revolting feeling and peer closer at it.  Apparently, The Man has a color scheme in mind for me.

The scaly patches are a pale white.  When I tilt my leg they shimmer and sparkle with the lights.  Looking even closer, I notice that there are no stitches or staples holding the scales in place.  How could that be?  Involuntarily my hand lifts up on its own accord as my fingers reach towards the scales.  “I wouldn’t touch them if I were you.  We wouldn’t want to risk an infection now would we?”

I yelp at the sudden, deep, chilling voice.  I whip around and search for the true freak of this museum.  The Man stands as still as a snake.  His eyes lock onto mine with such intensity that makes me want to hide.

I force myself to fight the urge and hold his stare with as much intensity as I can muster.  The corner of his lips quirk up at my challenge as if amused.  I don’t even try to hide the hatred that must be burning on my face.  There is no love lost between us.

“I see that you’re abiding by my rules now.  That’s very smart of you.  Especially considering your delicate disposition at the moment.  I wonder, how long will you last in here before I break you?  The cage you now occupy has quite an unlucky streak with its occupants.  I do hope you can prove me wrong though.  As I have told you in the past, I have so many great things in store for you.” 

I force myself to remain absolutely still.  I imagine a mask slipping over my face to hide my emotions.  He’s just after a reaction from me.  Like a bully.  Give them a reaction and they’ll keep coming back for me.  Ignore them and they’ll eventually leave to seek weaker prey.  I may not be able to fight back, but I can sure rebel in other ways!

That vile smile of his beings to falter.  Just for a fraction of a second, I’m able to see the real man underneath his self-composed image.  He tries to nonchalantly shrug, but it’s too late.  I saw the doubt in his eyes.  I made my first wound of many to come.  It’s time to slowly bleed this man dry.

I maintain my stony silence and causally turn around to give him my back.  No rules have been broken.  He cannot risk ignoring his own laws in front of all of his “possessions” to punish me. Silence greets me from behind.  I’m dying to see his reaction, but I hold my ground.  Quite literally actually given my current position.

Minutes tick by and my curiosity is starting to turn into boredom.  Still I refuse to turn around and be the first one to break the stand/sit off.  I made my move.  Now it’s his turn.

“You might as well get up.  The Man has been gone for about five minutes already.” Says Seraphina with exasperation.  I whip around and look for him.  She’s right!  He’s gone.  How did the freak leave so quietly?  It’s disturbing to think about how quietly he can come and go as he pleases.  I’ve got to be more careful from now on.  One false move and this will all come crashing down.

“Why in the world didn’t you tell me?” I ask with irritation.  “You could’ve at least told me when he left!”  I can hear the mattress creak as Seraphina sits up to look at me.  “I’m so sorry Princess.  I didn’t know I was your secretary.  I’ll get right on it next time!”  I mumble a not so nice retort back and face away from her.

Goosebumps prickle my arms as if a could draft has wafted over me.  I try to vigorously rub my hands over myself to warm up.  I’m puzzled at the odd drop in temperature and hold my hand up to feel for the air current.  Finding none, I being to look around for a vent of some kind. 

While glancing around for the source of the cold air, my eyes wander over to the cage on the far left across the aisle.  It’s Brissy!  I’m relieved to see that Jack’s best friend has made it back to his cage.  He survived the Play Room! 

I’m about to turn my head towards Jack to tell him when I realize something odd.  I squint to try and see what’s out of place, but from my position on the floor I can’t really tell.  Ignoring the pain in my thighs, I put both of my hands on the mattress and slowly push myself back up. 

The world beings to tilt and spin with darkness trying to creep in.  I make my body freeze and will myself to take deep breaths.  When I feel my vision returning to normal, I take small careful steps to the corner of my cage.

With my hands cupped to the glass, I peer as best as I can into Brissy’s cage.  It takes a few second for me to final realize what is so off.  At first, I thought it was just a shadow cast from the dimmed lights.  My heart drops to my stomach.  Immediately I start to pound and scream on the glass wall.  I can see everyone jerking towards me from the corner of my eye but I don’t’ care.

Over and over I pound the wall as I scream myself hoarse.  My talons have once again sliced my palms to ribbons.  Bloody hand prints smear the glass as I try desperately to get help.  Two soldiers come blasting through the double door with their weapons drawn.  The Man is right on their heels (does this guy ever sleep?) and still dressed in hi snice suit as usual.

When they come closer, I point vigorously towards Brissy.  The Man’s eves are glowering at me.  Slowly, he cuts his eyes from mine and looks at where I’m pointing.  Immediately he rushes to my cage and slams down on the button.

The intercom buzzes to life, “Hello sir, how  may I…”  The Man cuts the intercom as he roars into the speaker, “Get me Diane and the medical team down to cage 13  NOW!”  The Man runs over to Brissy as the intercom stutters a confirmation.  Everything turns to chaos.

It’s a blur of bodies and frantic movements as everyone pours in and out of Brissy’s cage.  Numbly I turn to look at Jack.  His eyes are desperate and I can see his mouth moving, but it’s all too much.

I watch detached from it all.  I can’t help but look as they carry Brissy past me on a stretcher.  The mutations done to him previously were bad enough.  Horrible enough to break any man or woman, but what was done to him last night in the Play Room?  I don’t know how he survived the night.

His claws have been ripped off his hands and plunged all throughout his body.  His black tail has been hacked clean off with only a stub remaining.  With horror, I realize that I can see things that shouldn’t be seen outside of his body.  His charred stomach has been carved open.  The intestines have been pulled out and draped around his wrists like obscene bracelets.  Yet somehow he lived long enough to make it back to his cage.

Yet, there’s one more wound that has me puzzled.  His throat is sliced open from ear to ear.  If the clients slit his throat, why would The Man bring him back to his cage?  Why wouldn’t he take him back to Diane to be put in the cold metal lockers?

I pull my eyes away from poor Brissy and look back at the scene before me.  I can see The Man losing his composure and screaming at his guards.  I press my ear to the wall and try to make out what he’s saying.  “…don’t think for one second that any of you will be going home tonight.  I want everyone here doing whatever it takes to find out how he smuggled a box cutter into his cage.  Find out now or so help me I’ll have one of you taking Brissy’s place!”

I’ve never seen the Freak lose his cool before.  He’s absolutely livid and ready to kill someone.  I cannot help but smirk and applaud Brissy.  In a way, he won.  He may not have left this place alive but at least he left it on his own terms.  He took the choice away from The Man.  One glance at Jack though made me sober up.

Jack just stares at his friend’s cage, as if in a trance.  I so desperately want to reach out and hug him.  I long to take some of that heartache from him and ease his pain.  Even if it’s just for a moment.  Without even looking behind him, he falls back onto his mattress and continues to stare. 

I open my mouth to try and comfort him when The Man beings to scream, “Everyone wake up!  I’m declaring this a lock down.  Every single cage will be emptied and searched from top to bottom.  You will all be taken to the Black Room.  For the duration of this search, you will be chained and forced to stand till we’re done.  Anyone who attempts to rebel, anyone who attempts to fight back or even try to sit down will immediately be placed in the Play Room for our next opening.  No second chances!” 

My stomach drops at this news.  My thighs still ache fiercely and quiver from the fresh implant.  How can I endure standing for a few minutes, let alone several hours? 

True to his word, we are all forced to leave our cages.  Before we are shoved into a single file, we are all shacked from top to bottom.  Walking is impossible.  A shamble is all we can muster with our movements so limited.  The slow march takes a while to make.  Each and every one of us struggle to cooperate with our various appendages and mutations. 

As we shuffle by, I try to memorize each twist and turn we make.  Each hallway and door number we pass I try to sear into my memory.  We pass one room with a single high window.  The sounds within make my heartbeat fast.  I stop and reach up onto my tippy toes to try and get a glance inside, but the person behind me crashes into me.  All behind me everyone goes down like a line of dominos. 

My wings scream in protest at the weight of bodies pinning it in awkward positions.  I try to get up but between the shackles and the weight of the bodies, I cannot get up.  One by one, the weight is lessened as the guards yank us back up carelessly.  One burly guard grabs my arm and part of my wing as he pulls me up.  I cry out in protest as my wing endures more abuse only to earn a hard slap to the face.  My head whips back from the force and I can taste the coppery tang of blood. 

Heartlessly I’m shoved forward and I scramble to stay upright.  As we continue our shamble, the haunting noises begin to fade with each step.  I pray to God that I’m wrong about the sounds.  Finally, we reach the Black Room. 

We are ushered through an archway and enter a huge cavern of a room.  The room is exactly as it’s named, black.  The walls and floors are painted solid black.  There is a bar attached to the wall from one side to the other.  Kind of what you would see in a ballet studio (though I highly doubt that that’s what it’s for).  The middle of the floor dips down to drain.  Lovely.

We are all chained to the bar one in front of the other.  When we are all chained to the bar, the guards step back and file out of the doorway.  Two guards stay behind.  One stays outside of the archway and the other stays inside with us.

No one utters a word.  Fear reeks from many of them.  It’s so strong that you can almost taste it.  Some are even quivering but wisely crying silently.  To distract myself, I try to observe my surroundings a little more.  The ceiling holds only one dim light dangling off a wire in the center of the room.  Sprinklers are spaced out along the ceiling as well in intervals.

With nothing else to look at in the bare room, I look towards the drain.  It’s only as big as the width of my arm.  Tiny screws are bolting it to the ground.  No use can come out of that one.  With the exposed bulb lazily swinging above us I almost miss something stuck in the drain.  I try to lean a little bit forward to get a look.  My shackles clank and pull taunt.  With a huff, I pull back and settle in for the wait. 

***

I have no idea how much time has passed.  I look across the room and see Jack and Seraphina shackled next to each other.  Neither one of them utters a word.  Jack keeps casting me worried glances from time to time.  I try to give him a reassured smile, but I don’t think it reaches my eyes.  I know he’s worried about how I’ll last standing up with my legs.  To be completely honest, I’m wondering how I’ll be able to do it too. 

I don’t bother to look at Seraphina for comradery.  She has remained looking straight ahead since we got here.  A sudden voice echoes into the Black Room and pulls an involuntary gasp from me.  I can sense everyone jump after being forced into silence for so long.  “Well well well my little pets.  It seems that some of you are not as obedient as I presumed.  There have been a few…interesting items that have been found in your enclosures.” 

Panic seizes my heart in a vice grip.  It pounds so hard that I’m sure everyone can hear it.  The tooth brush.  He must have found it!  The air practically vibrates with the tense silence as we wait for what our fate will be.  “I’m sure all of you would agree that I have been a very reasonable man.  I have tried to be fair with my rules.  Yet this is how you repay me?”  The Man stalks around the room as he condemns us.  One man’s bowels actually let loose as The Man brushes past him.  The woman behind him doesn’t even try to avoid the splash.  Her eyes are so glazed over I’m not even sure she’s aware of what’s going on.  The room immediately fills up with the stench of his release.

The Man side steps the mess and continues on without missing a beat.  “Now you will ALL pay for the sins of the few by spending the rest of the night in the Black Room.  Those that have been found guilty will be taken away.  The rest will remain standing in here.  If anyone is found sitting, they too will join the ranks of the guilty for the pleasure of the clients.  Guards!  Take away my naughty little pets.”

Guards filled the room and they began to unchain the ones assumed guilty.  The defiled man screams as one of the guards approaches him.  His cries are muffled as the butt of a gun is smashed into his face.  His nose shatters and blood gushes down his face.  The poor man doesn’t even try to fight.  His legs dangle on the floor as he is dragged out leaving a trail of bodily fluids.

The raven haired woman in front of me is taken next.  She doesn’t fight the guards nor scream in protest.  She holds herself high and proud.  As she’s lead away I can see her side profile.  She’s at least seven months pregnant at least!  My mouth drops open in shock and horror.  Surely they won’t hurt her or the baby!  Whatever lies ahead for her, she leaves with grace and without a second glance back. 

The guards come my way and I can’t help but jerk back and push hard against the wall.  Closer and closer they come to me.  I bite my lip and squeeze my eyes shut tight.  Then I feel them brush past me.  Relief floods through me and I feel like I might lose my bowels as well from the fright.  Four people in total are lead out: three men and one woman.

As the last one is lead out dragging and screaming, The Man takes a step to leave the room but pauses mid step.  He crouches down to look down into the drain.  A weird smile crosses his face as he reaches into his suit and pulls out a pen.  Then he jabs it into something and holds it up into the light. 

Across the room, a woman lets loose a violent volley of vomit onto the back of the man in front of her.  Moans and groans fill the room and echo like trapped ghosts.  The Man chuckles and tosses the object at my feet.  It makes a sickening plop and rolls close to the heel of my foot.  I don’t know whether to cry, scream, or hurl.

The Man gives me a wicked smile as he wipes his pen clean and places it back into his pocket.  “Sweet dreams little bird.  Remember, I’ll always be ‘watching you’.”  The Man walks away cackling at his own joke and leaves the mutilated eyeball staring up at me.  This is going to be a long night.



© Copyright 2018 Little Meeper. All rights reserved.

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