Stuck In Darkness

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Not suitable for younger readers.


Stuck In Darkness

I never thought that there would be a time when I’d welcome the sound of a scream. But then I’d never thought I would find myself held prisoner inside a cell.

There is no light here, and the blackness is so dense that no matter how long I’m here I cannot see. At all. Not even an outline. It is impossible to tell if my eyes are open or closed. I might as well be blind... in fact, the idea that I might be keeps flirting with my mind, whenever it is calm enough to think.

The stench is almost overwhelming. Food is never offered, and even if it had been I would not have been able to eat it. My stomach is clenched from the sickening smell, and from a slow starvation. A bottle of water seems to find its way inside the cell. I never notice it being left there and I only find them by accident when my foot makes contact with something other than a solid wall. The first time I found a bottle I threw it at the wall, spattering myself with the cold liquid.

When the next bottle arrived I was desperate. My lips were split, my tongue was dry. I could not scream then; could not even croak. I sniffed at the bottle, suspicious of what it might contain. With the rest of the stench to contend with I could not tell if there was any smell coming from the contents. I took a sip, just a small one, and the relief was so wonderful that I could not control myself and gulped the contents down in a matter of minutes.

My stomach rebelled, and my moment of rashness left me whimpering and writhing on the damp concrete floor, even more dehydrated than I had been before. I’d not take more than the smallest sip again, just enough to moisten my vocal cords.

And then I would join in with the screaming.

A tiny cell, big enough for me to curl up in but not stretch out, held me a prisoner in the darkness. Concrete below me, and on three sides, while the other side was made up of rusty metal bars. I could smell the corrosion, along with the sweat, the damp, the human waste. Still there were times when I would feel compelled to lick the bars, cutting my tongue in the process.

I’m not alone. The screams tell me that. We are beyond communicating in any other way, our minds empty of anything but terror and pain. But even so we offer up our voices, . The blackness is rarely silent for long and I’ve got to admit that never has a scream sounded sweet... until now.

 

 



Submitted: December 23, 2020

© Copyright 2021 hullabaloo22. All rights reserved.

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Comments

Mike S.

Scary thought and tale, Hull

Wed, December 23rd, 2020 8:25pm

Author
Reply

Yeah, my mind is definitely drawn towards the dark side lately. Thanks for giving this a read.

Sun, December 27th, 2020 4:52am

LE. Berry

Another too true chiller hullabaloo22...well written.

Wed, December 23rd, 2020 10:17pm

Author
Reply

Thanks, LE!

Sun, December 27th, 2020 4:49am

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