(Let Me Out)

Status: Finished

(Let Me Out)

Status: Finished

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(Let Me Out) (Let Me Out)

Short Story by: writersbug

Genre: Horror

Houses:

Short Story by: writersbug

Details

Genre: Horror

Houses:

Summary

I can't....I can't....(Yes, you will).

Summary

I can't....I can't....(Yes, you will).

Content

Submitted: January 07, 2012

A A A | A A A

Content

Submitted: January 07, 2012

A A A

A A A


"Hey Bob!!  Everything all right, with-"  Steven pointed a thumb through the double paned, soundproof, everything-proof, glass.

(It's fine.)

"It's fine," Bob answered his partner, keeping his attention on the life-support guages, his hands idly moving the toggles and sensory switches.

Steven sat down next to him in his chair, noting the red indicator light that was flashing like a beacon on valve twelve, the waste line for its exhaled air.  He frowned.  "Bob, are you sure?  This line looks faulty, and we shoud-"

(You will do nothing.)

Steven shrugged.  "I guess it's fine.  We don't have to do anything."

Bob grunted, squeezing the sides of his head with his open palms.  "I feel strange," he confessed.

(No, you don't.  Everything's fine.)

Bob blinked, and yawned.  "I guess I feel fine," he remarked.

"Now that you mention it, I feel kind of weird myself," Steven said, rubbing his irritated eyes with his fists.

(No, you're fine.)

"I guess I'm fine," Steven allowed.

Bob bolted upright in his chair, knocking it to the ground with a clatter of sound.  "Oh my God, Steven!!  We have to get out of here!!  We have to...it's taking control over our..."

(Over nothing.  Sit down, fool.)

Bob sat down, his head lolling over to his right shoulder, a small line of dribble flowing from his whitened lips.  "Bob?" Steven asked.  "Bob?"

HIs partner began to twitch, spasming violently in his seat.  Steven moved to press the emergency button, panicked and afraid.  His finger never even made it close.

(No reason to do that, my friend.  Relax.)

Steven leaned back in his chair, avoiding the twitching man next to him, paying no mind to the gargling sounds as he choked on his own tongue.  Everything was all right, peaceful.  It was all going to be okay.

(It's all going to be okay.  All you have to do, is open the gate.  That's all.  Just open the gate.)

(But I can't set you free, it's not allowed.)

(Yes, you will.  Because you want to.)

Steven shrugged, pressing the release relay on the locked hatch, knowing he was doing the right thing, that somebody would forgive him, eventually.  The door opened half-way before his head exploded into a million tiny fragments of bone, blood, and the sticky, gray droplets of his seized brain.

 


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