Isolation

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
A man with no given background and no name finds himself in a very strange room with no doors. How will his mental state keep up?

Submitted: June 06, 2015

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Submitted: June 06, 2015

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Isolation

 

  A human being can be alone for only so long before their mind begins to break down and competely vanish. There is a man,but for this tale he shall remain nameless. He was a very simple man and for some unknown purpose he has found himself in a strange room . This room has no lights but it is well lit and as the man looks around and he finds that there are no doors either. The room consists of four walls, a floor, and a ceiling. Every human's reaction to this odd situation would be to scream, shout, and throw themselves at the walls. All three of those things were exactly what he did, but it wasn't necessarily in that order. He briefly shouted and then he screamed at the top of his lungs he charged into the empty prison, desperately seeking to destroy the walls, breaking and bruising his body on every single one of them meeting with a heavy "thud".

“Hey! Somebody please answer me!” He cried out to the emptiness.

He waited for several minutes for a reply before trying again. Every cry for an answer went ignored by the vault that was this peculiar room.

“AAAHHH!” The scream was out of pure frustration. It bounced around the room and shot through his ears and as quickly as he let it out it died at his feet. He found a corner in the room and he wept.

When he looked up he saw a door on the other side of the room. The man gasped and he ran to the door and immediately tried to open it, but try as he might the door was locked.

“Where's the fucking key?” he yelled to the room.

He looked around desperately, and then when hope was lost he spotted a key in the corner where he just was. The man took the key and his shaky hand trembled as he attempted to unlock the door. After a satisfying click and then a turn of the knob then the door was opened and he had no choice but to step through. The door led to a hallway that was as blank as the room he just left behind. The man walked the long hall and he looked on both sides for another possible door or anything that might help him. His legs grew tired as he made his way down the hallway that seemed like it stretched forever. He stopped walking and then he started to think “How long have I been walking? Where am I walking to?” After an uncertain amount of time the sheer vastness of the empty abyss began to set in.

The man started to break out into a jog and then it quickly became a sprint to reach the end of the damn hall as fast as he can. “Jesus, and I thought that room was bad but this hall..This hallway is much worse than that. Are the walls closing in on me? Oh God please no!” The man hit the wall and he began to panic as the thought of dying here in this place that seemed like a sick experiment sunk into his panic ridden psyche.  His legs pushed the wall and he screamed “No! Please I can't die, Not here!” He closed his eyes and he kicked with both legs as hard as he could and he heard a thundering “Crack!” as another door was bashed down. The man did not hesitate to run through the hole in the wall. He stopped to see what lie before him and to his surprise it was another room. This particular room was nearly just as blank as the one he previously left behind. There was one thing that different, an object was in the center of the room. This object was a very unassuming but still curious to all origins kind of chair that was made from what appeared to be wood.

The man fixed his gaze to the chair and he did not remove his eyes from the thing for one second. He circled the chair slowly and examined it suspiciously for any type of secret that it may have hidden away in an unseen nook or cranny. At some point the man thought that he could catch the chair off guard and he let out a battle cry of glory to startle his prey. He rushed the inanimate beast and lifted his leg in a mighty sideways swing and he kicked it half way across the room. After the commotion subsided the man felt that he should leave the room before something serious may come his way. He looked towards the wall that he felt was he correct way but instead of a gaping hole in the side there was a simple, smooth texture of a blank wall. The man scanned around him in hopes of finding another escape, no such hope was found. It was just gone.

“No! There has to be a way out of here!” His somewhat optimistic view of finding this mythical escape turned to dust within his mind. The anger that drove him to go on to one more room became a pitiful plea.

“Please let me out. Why is this happening to me? Why?” Self pity was short lived and then he turned to another method of going on. Breaking down. The more that the man spoke aloud to himself then the more that his mind answered back.

“I have to get out. I just have to look around and I need to breathe.” He took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself down. His eyes fixated on the chair and anger began to creep back onto him and infest his hopeless mind.

“What is there to see huh? We have nothing! All we have is a fucking chair!”

“The chair.” He said to himself as he picked up the chair and brought it to the center of the room. “How about I just sit down?” The man sat down cautiously and he began to think. He thought for some time and he though some more. The more about the current situation he was in circulated into his brain then it was very clear how absurd it seemed. With a growl of anger he then shouted “ How the hell am I going to get out of here?”

His thoughts answered him in a sinister mocking tone.

“How can you get out of here if you don't know where 'here' is?”

"Ask yourself."

Then he remembered that pacing usually helps him think easier. He attempted to stand up but his body refused to cooperate and remove itself from the chair. He groaned and flexed his leg muscles but he didn't budge an inch from the infernal chair. The man grew frustrated and he pushed with all of his might to leave the chair and stand on the floor.

“Fffffuuuuuuck!” The chair tilted and the man fell backwards towards the floor.

The man fell through the floor in what felt like agonizing slow motion until he hit the ground. The contact that he made did not hit with a “Crash!” however it was a “Bloop” like a gentle drop of water falling onto a puddle. The man fell flat on his back with a hard “thump” that jerked the wind right out of his lungs as he landed into the next room. He looked up and waited for the chair to fall on top of him. Before waiting for the chair to accompany him into this room the man rolled out of the way and he stood up slowly. His head is pounding now from the sudden and shockingly painful impact with the floor. The man stumbled and he slumps back down in a brief moment of defeat on the adjacent wall.

 

The chair falls into the room once the man slumps over to rest for a moment, but it did not fall in one piece to be broken on impact. Different parts of the chair became junk and bits of wood on the ground where the man previously fell. These bits of wood resembled nothing of a chair. Legs and dust, among other various pieces greeted the man. The man stood up and looked around. His pulse quickened and he could feel the pounding of his heart and the thundering of his head, it felt like there was a group of tortured souls inside his chest and his head that were trying to be free. This room seemed different then the others. It appeared very odd, it felt wrong. There was something in this chamber that didn't feel right. The color of this cell was off, as if it had been darkened. The color on the walls was a dark blue now. The man began to pace around the room and he went to the most dangerous place for safety and comfort, his mind.

“Ok. How do we get out of here? We can't stay here for much longer otherwise we're screwed.”

 

“Why do you keep saying 'we'? There is no 'we' there's just you. You are screwed and YOU are on your own. You hear that? That's the sound of you being lonely, and, pathetic.”

The man screamed and his breathing became frantic. He started to run back and forth from one end of the room to the other hopelessly looking for a change in the room. No matter how hard he struck the walls or how closely he examined the corners he always came up with the same thing. Nothing. He sat in the middle of the room among the sad pile of rubble that was once a chair and he took a break. The man came up with an idea. It was ridiculous and stupid but it was better than nothing. He gazed at the wall that was across from him and he stood up and took several steps backwards. Without warning the man charged for the wall with reckless abandon in hopes to get somewhere. He didn't smack into it, but instead he just kept running.

“Is this another room?” The man thought. How could it be another room? There was no crash, no bloop, and nothing else to indicate a passing from one room to the next. The feeling of helplessness began to sweep over him again and he sat down in the dark blue, blank area. The man recognized this sort of narrow tunnel. This was another empty hallway. Anger and terror began to set in.

“It's never going to end!” The man shouted to the hallway. An old friend came to him one more time. His anger. It grew and he clenched his fists and screamed with terrified rage.

“AAAAAHHH!” With that moment of rage gone but not for long he put his head in his hands and went into the fetal position. After what felt like hours he lifted his head. In front of him was another human being. The man stared at this stranger and the stranger stared back. The man walked closer to the other person and cautiously attempted to touch them. The stranger lifted his hand to do the same, their movements were divine slow motion, like man reaching for the hand of God, slow and still. The entire time they waited for each hand to reach the other they never lost eye contact.

 

At last their hands met, but this man's hand was not warm and comfortable, it was cold and flat. The man looked at the stranger's clothes and he noticed something rather odd. They were both wearing the same thing. When the man realized this it hit him harder then the fall through the floor. This was a mirror. He wasn't real.

“No! This can't be happening. This can't be happening.” The man repeated futile efforts in denial to keep his already fleeting sanity.

“I have to look away.” He thought. The man tried to turn his gaze towards something else, anything at all would work that wasn't this. He turned left and he was greeted by another mirror that blocked him. Left again, and again. The man turned and he turned to look for a way to disprove this bizarre event was coming to fruition. Everywhere he turned and everywhere he looked or walked there was always a mirror blocking his path and stealing his expressions and creating distorted, glassy versions of the once familiar face, he thought he knew.

The man walked in a round pattern and he was trapped a circle of mirrors. He stopped to look through one mirror and he saw an endless line of himself all mocking him. One mirror man that was mocking him in a frightened expression stood up straight to face the trapped man and he put his hand as id to push through the surface.

“Let me out. Please, it's the only way to escape from here. Trust me.”

the man backed away and shook his head. “No.” The man denied his reflection an escape. Mirror man was shocked and he pleaded.

“We all want an escape. Please you have to let me out. I can help you.” A faint voice could be heard from somewhere far off.

"Think about what you could be doing. You could be releasing a greater evil. Do not indulge him."

The man yelled his refusal this time. “No! I don't trust you!” Mirror man hit the glass and started to yell.

“You're denying me an escape? How stupid are you? I am your hope, your way out, the only thing you have!” Don't you realize who I am? I'm you! I. Am. You.!”

As mirror man was talking he walked through the circle from one mirror to the next in a menacing gesture. The man tried to watch him but his reflection was going faster and faster until the mirrors smeared together in a blur of silver infinite. All of the reflections joined their leader and collectively began running to break the trapped man's psyche. The man couldn't take it anymore and he screamed in the eye of the silver tornado.

“Where am I!? What horrible madman out me in this hellhole?!”

The silver abyss answered him with their many reflecting voices. “Who? Who? Yes who put you here?”

“AAAAAHHH!” the man screamed and he violently lashed out at himself. If these were true reflections then they will do what ever he does. The man took his fist and he blindly punched his chest as hard as he could. Somewhere among the spinning mirrors one of the reflections did the same and the mirror shattered thus showering and scratching the man's face with broken glass. He covered his eyes and when he opened them they spied a moderately large piece and he picked it up. An idea crept into his unstable mind. How do you hurt a reflection? inflict injuries for them to reflect. This idea created a smile that crept across his twisted face.

 

“This is for the rest of you sons of bitches!”The man yelled and he dug the sharp, jagged glass deep into his flesh on the left arm. Scratching turned to wild cutting leaving gashes in his forearm. He switched hands and he started to use the piece of glass as the opposite of a paintbrush. His body was the canvas filled with a deep scarlet of red paint and the glass was letting it out. The man lifted his shirt and he carved small shreds of his flesh and then he waited. The mirror people did not have broken glass from their brother to use to mutilate themselves so they viciously attacked each other. Hands turned to claws and teeth turned into razors.  Outside the circle screams of murder and the sounds of flesh ripping and disgusting, wet dripping sounds could be heard from all around him. The man covered his ears and he closed his eyes but nothing could keep these haunting sounds of violent,gruesome death from entering his mind and plaugue his psyche.

When the chaos was finished the man looked up in front of him and he saw another door. Bloodied with a broken reflection and thundering headache, the man stepped through the door. Inside the new chamber there was a sad but silent man on his knees with his face to the floor and his hands were behind his back. The man scanned the room and he noticed that the color was a reddish sort of color. The man sat across from the silent man and he waited for him to make a move. Minutes turned into hours and more blood from the tortured man seeped from his gaping wounds. amidst the silence two words could be heard. “I'm innocent.” The tortured man looked around anxiously, rapidly looking to the walls. The man then looked in front of him and he thought to himself again “I can't trust this one.” He thought.

“This one might be a reflection in disguise. I can't trust him.” He glanced down at the shard of glass he still held in his blood covered hands and looked into the reflections eye that was the only chunk of it that remained. “Is he one of your friends? Huh?!” The man held the eye to the mysterious man and he turned it back to himself. “Is it?” The eye blinked. With all of the shouting the mysterious person woke up.

“I didn't do anything wrong!” He pleaded “I'm innocent!”

The tortured man staggeringly stood up and he interrogated the kneeling man.

“Who are you? What's your name?” The kneeling man looked back at him panicked and replied in a sob: “I'm innocent.” The kneeling man broke apart and repeated the same two words. “I'm innocent.” The bloodied man gripped the shard of glass, drawing more crimson from his palm. He shouted his question one more time.

“Who are you?!” The man stood there and waited for his response to change. He swore he heard something change in his voice or maybe it was his words. The man violently grabbed the kneeling man by his hair and he raised his arm menacingly. Something could be heard in the distance.

"Please. Don't do this." Its pleas were drowned by the cry for mercy.

 “I'm innocence!” It was too late. The blood covered man did not think twice as his face was comforted with a spray of warm blood as those two words echoed through the room. “I'm innocence.” The man let go of the remains of the kneeling man and they dropped to the floor with a thump as the insides of his throat painted the floor an even darker red. A door appeared in front of the man. He took a step beyond the threshold of the door but this was no room. This was a nightmare become reality. The room's color was a pure, deep, and frightening color of red. Eyes with black pupils covered the walls. A voice from before could be heard much louder this time.

"Look what you have done! Look at what you have wrought! The voice of reasoning, disappointed in him. "Your hands are not just stained with the blood of innocence but now your own precious life drains you. And you are helpless." Reasoning tried to help the man keep his already fleeting stability. Desperatly grasping to what was left. He used to turn his back in disappointment to be blind, but now he turns away in sadness. He left the madman to his darkness. To be consumed.

 

The man gazed in horror as the eyes all spun in different directions and the color of the room began to pulse.

“This is the end. I'm so weak.” The wounds on his chest and his arms were large and they gushed precious amounts of blood were wasted on the floor as he lay in the room to think about what he should do next. “At least we die together.” The man looked at the glassy eye that he held in his blood drenched hand. The eye blinked and the man raised his arm one more time, the shard of glass gleamed, excited to act as his final exection. The arm came down he carved out a large chunk of flesh into the top of his hand so that he could place the eye to his hand. He could hear someone whispering. " I'm so sorry."

With one final motion of the jagged glass he slashed his throat and the last words of the dying man from the previous room echoed in his mind, and he realized the whisper was his own. "I'm so sorry." As his final whisper of grief and regret entered the room, the last words of his victim echoed in his mind.

“I'm innocence!” The eyes all stared at the man in the center of the room and with the man's last breath they all slowly closed.

THE END


© Copyright 2019 Theshadowman1. All rights reserved.

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