Seven chairs. Seven people. Eight including me.
All stuck in the same room.
A room with four blindingly white walls.
Seven chairs. Seven people. Eight including me.
The room is silent except for the constant thump of a heartbeat.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Their names circle around my head. The words speeding up until they become muddled.
Tyler. Ivy. Kiyan. Faye. Jaxon. Lyla. Louis. Tyler. Ivy. Kiyan. Faye. Jaxon. Ly-
I stare straight ahead, knowing the others are doing the same. I don't need to look at them to know what they're doing. I don't want to see their lifeless eyes, staring without seeing. Whispers begin floating around the room, snippets of someone else's conversation. But none of us are talking. Their mouths don't open. Not a breath of air squeezes out from their sealed lips. They're all silent, waiting impatiently for their chance.
Their chance to live.
I stand, walking towards the spotlight in the center of the room.
It's my turn.
I blink once, twice, my eyes adjusting to the change in lighting. The room is poorly lit with a single lamp acting as decoration. Sitting up I quietly crawl out of bed, the frame creaking under my weight. Slipping out of the room, their muffled screams echo down the hallway as each step I take brings me closer to my prey. I can hear them begging. To go home. To live. To die. And then silence. No more screams echo down my halls. No more tears stain their pillows. It's been a year now and they've given up.
I reach my destination and grasp the brass handle before beginning to open the door.
I stop.
And I breathe.
My hand shakes as it slips off their doorknob before coming to rest at my side. The slight smirk I hold on my face slips and I quickly back away, frantically shaking my head. Stumbling, my legs give out and I find myself on the floor. My breathing accelerates and my vision blurs. Crying out I claw at my skin leaving deep welts with blood quickly flowing out of them.
Standing, I race towards the door. Running from the guilt and towards the cause of it. But I can't do it. Bashing my head against the wall I rip my hair from my scalp. Yes no yes no yes no no! I can't do this anymore. Groaning, I softly mutter to myself, pacing up and down the hallway.
I can't.
But I will.
Taking a deep breath, I make my decision. Calmly walking into the room, I gently unlock the cuffs that have restrained them for the past year. "You can leave," I say, my voice rough from lack of use. I then watch as they get up on unsteady legs, stumbling away from me. They remind me of a baby foal learning how to walk for the first time. Still so gentle and well, innocent for lack of a better word. Their soft doe eyes fill with tears as they unsteadily make their way to the door. Stopping they glance back at me wondering if this is some sick joke like the ones I had played before. I simply nod in the direction of freedom before turning my back and busying myself with the instruments of torture left out on the table.
The door slams shut and I pick up my favorite blade, turning it over in my hand a few times. Testing the balance and familiarizing myself with its weight. One hand grasps the wooden handle while the other gently runs down the edge of the silver blade. A thin line of red appears, telling me what I already know. It's sharp. Very sharp. Sharp enough to kill. A sliver of sunlight peeps through a crack in the wall and reflects off my blade, casting a single, concentrated beam onto the opposite wall. Closing my eyes, I place the tip against my skin. Taking a deep breath, I plunge it into my heart.
I don't feel any pain. Not anymore.
Seven chairs. Seven people. Eight, including me.
All stuck in the same room.
A room with four blindingly white walls.
Seven chairs. Seven people. Eight including me.
The room is silent except for the constant thump of a heartbeat.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Their names circle around my head. The words speeding up until they become muddled.
Tyler. Ivy. Kiyan. Faye. Jaxon. Lyla. Louis. Tyler. Ivy. Kiyan. Faye. Jaxon. Ly-
I stare straight ahead, knowing the others are doing the same. I don't need to look at them to know what they're doing. I don't want to see their lifeless eyes, staring without seeing.
Whispers begin floating around the room, snippets of someone else's conversation. But none of us are talking. Their mouths don't open. Not a breath of air squeezes out from their sealed lips. They're all silent, waiting impatiently for their chance.
Their chance to live.
The spotlight flickers before fading.
We all breathe our last breath before our vision dims.
It is done.
Please vote and comment and feel free to criticise my work (only positive criticism though so I can work to make this more enjoyable for everyone reading it) and let me know if you want some more short stories like this :)
Love you all xx
