Fear Factory #Wattys2017

Cleithrophobia by Darth_Kronis

Cleithrophobia (from Greek cleithro, "to shut or to close") (also known as clithrophobia or cleisiophobia) is the fear of being trapped or being locked in an enclosed space. The individuals suffering from this fear might be able to enter rooms calmly provided that the fear of being closed in and being unable to leave at free will, does not exist in their minds.

The physical symptoms of cleithrophobia includes sweating, headaches, dizziness, nausea, tachycardia (rapid heartbeats), etc. The psychological symptoms are a feeling of dread, losing control and even in the extremist of cases, dying. (Psychosomatic Death. Literally dying of fright.)

Untitled by Darth_Kronis

My name is Max.... Max Terrance and I'm going to tell out a story of my life....

Ever since I was younger I always had a phobia, a fear, a problem, whatever you call it. It was the fear of being locked in a space and not able to leave. When I was younger I went on a elevator but as it was going up, it stopped.

I was there alone. When I think about it I remembered how much of a wimp I was. Screaming and crying till a few hours later they let me down. I ran straight to my mothers warm arms as if running from a dark void.

Whenever I hear a lock click my heart races as fast as a cheetah, when I here a door close I feel as if I'm one second away from it all being over. It's been 17 years since the elevator incident. The day my fear came to surface. I headed out of my small apartment for my shift as a pizza boy. It's an ok job I don't need to drive my own car and it'll help pay the bills.

I take a deep breath taking in the air of the south side of Australia. I slowly walk out of my small complex wearing a pair of sweatpants and my delivery uniform. I was heading out in a slight pace as if I thought someone was behind me.

I was constantly checking behind me, as if I'd see a van coming to toss me in it or beast to pick me up and lock me in a giant cage to be its dinner.

Today I got a call way out to the outskirts of town. The order of some Benny N. He ordered garlic bread and pineapple pizza. I thought to myself about how much of an odd fellow this guy was while driving through the dimly lit street lights and bumpy roads of southern side of Australia.

Gone were the skyscrapers and well manicured lawns, in its place was graffiti and the ever pungent odor of shit.

I shortly arrived at Benny N's address walking past the dead trees and overgrown grass and pieces of broken cement. I stepped up to his door. Just as I was to ring the doorbell, I hesitated and took a breath I've done this route a thousand times but why did this house feel different?

Before I could even press the doorbell someone opened the door. His face was almost fully covered with his sweatshirt, and his jeans were slightly red from a liquid I could swear was blood.

I started to speak but I stuttered a bit from the intimidation I felt from the man. "H-here you are s-sir, your or-order." I said while sweating nervously feeling drops falling my forehead and down my face. "My order of pineapple pizza and breadsticks! Yes! Come on in!

I'll need to go grab my money!" He said and turned and skipped across the halls of his slightly ruined house. The paint was peeling off and he didn't want to know what happened to the rugs.

But as Benny N was skipping he noticed a slight limp every few skips.

He walked through to what supposedly was the living room of the building. There were 2 couches, a chair, and a really old box TV set. I took a seat and felt the couch move to adjust to my weight.