My Vault, my Prison

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
A young woman wakes up underground with no memory of who she is or why she's there, she just knows she desperately needs to escape before she slips into madness. Extremely short little short for some friends.

Submitted: December 01, 2015

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Submitted: December 01, 2015

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I wake up, the taste of copper and dirt overwhelming as I slowly try to drag myself to my feet. I feel the warm trickle of blood and spit instinctively, splattering the thick red liquid across the floor along with a tiny white tooth. My hand moves to my mouth and I wince, my breath heavy as I feel the bruises trailing across my face. It takes me a few minutes to get to my feet, trying to see anything through my swollen eye and tears. My legs refuse to do anything but stumble, barely moving my body as I explore my tiny prison, slowly feeling the walls until I find the door. My vision clears as I blink a few times, knuckles white as I clutch at the doorknob.

My name, what is my name? I blink as I stand there, slowly wobbling on my feet as I try and organize my thoughts. It, started with J, I think, but as soon as I try and remember the full name I can feel my head splitting and it slips away. It takes me a few full minutes of staring at the flat metal door, but finally I give up and manage to get the door open. A loud gasp slips out of my lips before I can stop myself as I see the rest of the vault.

Twisted, unnatural corpses line the hall, dozens of them lying like they were just thrown around. I gag as the strong smell of death and blood hits me, turning my head back towards the room to look away, only to see back into my room and find several more broken bodies. I whimper and stumble around, moving to run down the hall. I don't look to either of my sides as the vacant eyes of the corpses drill into my mind, burned into my eyes until I see them at every blink.

I hit the end of the hall before I realize it's there, thumping loudly into the heavy metal door and cracking my head on it. I ignore the new bruise and tear open the door, falling through and closing the door behind me. My stomach finally gives out and I move to the corner, the empty room echoing with my sick sobs as I empty my gut into the corner. I hold my arms around myself, leaning my head on the wall and staring at the blood-laced vomit, trying to make sense of any of this. I shake my head and pull my hair back out of my face, getting my breathing under control.

I need to leave this vault, I need to find a way out and then everything can make sense. That becomes my mantra as I inspect the room, finding crates and crates of food, water, medical supplies, but nothing telling me where this is or what's happening. I angrily hit a crate before looking around on the walls for some kind of directions. Joy erupts in my mind as I find an exit sign and follow it, opening the door to the far right of the large central room. I'm faced with another hall, my eyes squinting as another wave of stench hits me. I keep moving, carefully stepping over or around corpses, carefully nudging a few out of my way, whispering small apologies to every body as I pass, slowly feeling less and less sick by the sight of the dead.

Finally the end of the hall draws near and I grab at the ladder, my heart hammering as I slowly drag my weakened body up the rungs. I link my legs through at the top and reach up, straining to lift the trap door so I can climb out.

Blocked. I hesitate before pushing harder, planting my feet and straining my back to lift the door, but it doesn't move at all. “No no no no come on you piece of shit open!” I scream, surprised at my own voice as it thunders through the empty halls of the vault, groaning as I strain against the blocked door. I pound my fist, yelling and screaming for someone to hear me, against the door, hoping desperately that someone will come to release me. I continue to scream until my voice gives out, tears trailing down my cheeks, mixing with dirt and finally dropping down to the floor in tiny black droplets.

 

 

 

 

The days melt into weeks, and the weeks into months, as I wait for my body to return to it's health. I spend my time slowly rationing the food and water, moving bodies into the back rooms, exploring the vault, spending hours at the top of the ladder straining against the door to my prison. I find nothing about the vault or why it was created, but I find dozens of beds, a kitchen, a recreation room, basically an entire home in that tomb.

My body slowly gets better as time drags on, but I can feel myself losing it at the same time. It happens slowly at first, but I stop trying to remember anything about who I am or what happened, and gradually I stop keeping track of the months as they drift by. I fall back to talking to myself and writing my every thought down to make sure I'm still sane, mumbling as I work to clean the sprawling underground halls.

Inevitably I get bored of talking to myself and writing and I spend my time staring at the boring grey metal walls, blinking and feeling hours drift by as my mind gets absorbed in into the small, almost unnoticeable patterns in the steel. Eventually I forget if I even can talk and I drift around the vault, resorting to destroying rooms just to have something to clean, messing up my rations so I can count them over again.

I lose myself in my madness and finally work up the nerve to enter the back room where I moved the bodies of people who I desperately hoped were friends or family. I stare at them, relieved to see another human person, even if they aren't living. Soon, I'm sitting by the pile of corpses, talking to them as if they were alive with me. I can't take it as I hear myself describing my made up life to the deceased residents of the prison, and I start to sob uncontrollably.

I wake up the next day in the room, having cried myself to sleep next to the pile of rotting bodies. I say goodbye to the closest things I have to company and move confidently back to the ladder. I stare up at the door that haunted me for weeks, clenching my hands and moving strongly up the ladder. I sigh and place my hands on the door, gritting my teeth as I strain against the door.

I stay there for nearly half an hour, straining against the door, urged by the small inch I manage to move it open. I can feel the blockage slipping as I struggle, my shirt and jeans sticking to my body from my sweat. Finally, mercifully, I hear a loud sliding sound and the door moves up easily. I blink as I'm faced with a dark cloudy sky, my jaw dropping as I feel my feet get cold, suddenly nervous about leaving the safety of my bunker.

I take a deep breath and move up, clambering out of my prison and shakily getting to my feet. I see the wreckage of what was once a building around me, ruined timbers spreading out for almost a hundred feet to the side. I see the beam that had been blocking my bunker door and kick it, laughing in my success. I jump around excitedly, finally free to face the world. I look up at the dark clouds in the sky, and take a deep breath, coughing gently as the fresh air tingles in my lungs. I look around at the ruined landscape and smile, marveling at the beauty of the outside world.

I smile at the burned tree husks and the scorched earth, my stomach tingling and gurgling in my giddiness. I fall to my knees weakly, laughing with tears streaming down my cheeks, and violently vomit onto the dry dirt. I pant once my stomach is empty and sit up on my knees, chest heaving as I try and get enough air for my weak, exerted body. I scratch at my arm as I feel it tingling, watching my smooth, pale skin turn a deep, unhealthy shade of red and start to burn.

I can't stop myself from smiling and laughing, even as I feel warm blood trickle from my nose and drip off of my chin. I fall forward onto my hands, too weak to hold myself up as I finally realize my body is falling apart. I gag and get sick again, vomiting almost entirely blood, before collapsing to the ground. I stare at the beam that trapped me in the bunker for all those months, silently thanking it for saving me for that long, before calmly closing my eyes and feeling myself slowly slip away. 


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