Flames of the Past

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At age 10, I wasn’t quite as developed as a lot of people were when it came to their sense of fantasy vs reality. I was all about fantasy, and I didn’t care about anything else. Every day, I would play Pokemon and Yu-Gi-Oh! on the playground with my closest friends while the other kids played sports and ran around on the jungle gym. Bullies would always call me a baby, because I talked to my cards like they were real. I didn’t care who saw me do it, either. I was an average freak to them, and nothing more.

I heard dull stories every day while listening to the people who bullied me, seeing as they always managed to be seated around me. I would block out anything that didn’t seem like it was worth my time.

Near the end of my 5th grade year, I heard a story about something that the kids called “The Dungeon”. It was supposedly a place that was located near the old art room, and people said that if you opened the circular door in that room, you would be sucked down into a room with bright lights and construction equipment. Then, you would be gagged and blindfolded, and you would start to fall asleep. Upon awakening, you would find yourself in the nurse’s office, covered in dirt, and you would be told that you fell off of the jungle gym outside and hit your head. It had supposedly happened to 2 of my classmates/bullies, Kevin and Dustin, and they didn’t want to tell anyone besides their friends because of how scared they were.

I knew the exact room they were talking about, seeing as I was a very advanced art student, and my teacher’s secondary classroom for his honor students was right next to this room. I had always found the room odd, because it was plain concrete, the door to it was broken off of its hinges, and in the middle of the room was a circular shaft with a metal dome on top. The dome had a wheel on it, and the domed shaft as a whole reminded me of a submarine hull. I was curious, so during my after-school art class, I asked Mr. Basler if I could use the restroom. Of course he said yes, and as soon as I was out of the art room, I snuck into the dull room next to it.

I walked over to the shaft and twisted the wheel that was atop it. Sure enough, it was just like a submarine hull, and the door swung open on a hinge. I looked down into the hatch, and immediately saw the ladder that would allow me to climb down. I hadn’t been sucked in like those bullies had said, so I wasn’t scared at all. I climbed down the ladder quickly yet quietly, and soon I found myself standing in a well lit dirt room. The room had chunks of concrete and huge mounds of dirt littering it, and I soon saw the construction equipment that the two bullies had been talking about.

Jackhammers.
Shovels.
Spools of heavy wire.
Pick-axes.
Even a variety of saws.

I was starting to get scared. I asked myself why all of this stuff was here, and why this place looked nothing like a construction site. I soon found my answer as I crept over to one of the large holes that I saw in the ground. Down in the center of the hole was an ancient looking coffin, and the lid had been sawed off. I could see a bleach-white skeleton inside, and I started to cry. Why the hell was all of this here, and why were these dead people being dug up?

I decided that this was no time for questions, and I wanted to be out of the place ASAP. As I turned around to leave, I felt something hit me hard in the back of the head, and I collapsed. I guess that whoever hit me thought that I was unconscious, because they started to talk to themself.

I heard a man say “Damn kids, this is the 3rd one this month that made his way here. I need to have Todd buy a new door for the cover room…”.
I soon felt my body being lifted up, and the man placed me onto his back for the climb up the ladder. I could see the gray hair all over his face, and I came to realize that this man was Ray, the oldest of the school janitors. But why would he do this to me? I was one of his favorite kids in the school… I had talked to him since 1st grade! Why was he doing this all of a sudden?…

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