Stick To It

Scars

"The next page was a nightmare." I find myself explaining to Dr. Malagrene. "A nightmare I thought I'd woken up from, only to find out I'd been thrust into something much worse."

"Care to explain what you mean by that Mr. Pollock? There's not much information on the police report, and you've told me it's all a lie anyway. Please tell me what you experienced on that mountain." I take a deep breath and let loose a dark chuckle. "It's kind of ironic, actually. Because, once again, I could say it all started when I touched a bottle of beer..." I say as I start setting the scene.

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I wake up randomly, an unknown amount of time later. It's still dark out so it must be either late as hell or early as hell. Ugh. I shift around in the bed before realizing that I'm just not going to fall asleep again for a bit. Double ugh. I put my jacket back on as I hop out of bed. My socks are still on but my feet are still quite cold when they aren't under the covers. I slide my shoes on as I check my phone. 12:20. I sigh audibly and walk out of the door.

Luckily the moon is bright tonight or I wouldn't be able to see anything. I walk outside and notice an ouija board on the table as well as a planchette that was strewn across the room. Looks like someone wasn't happy with whatever happened. I walk to the kitchen and notice some alcohol in the fridge, I grab it on instinct. The bottle shone temptingly.

I shake my head and place the bottle back as I close the fridge. I know I didn't drink anything that day, but alcohol just doesn't sit right with me and it probably never will. 'I wonder where everyone is...' I think to myself. I fill a glass with water and just sit at the familiar bar stools by the kitchen counter. The silence is deafening and making me really regret showing up. I get lost in thoughts of last year, and vacations before that. This counter has been around for quite a bit of my life I realize. I rub my fingers on the smooth wood, feeling the dust that built up over the year of neglect. I start feeling sick to my stomach and rush over to the sink before I vomit. "Oh god..." I say to myself, not realizing how choked up I actually am.

I sit there at the sink for a bit, tap on to wash down the nasty bile as I silently cry. I suddenly feel a presence behind me and turn around only to feel a mask get placed on my face. I see an overall-clad individual wearing a strange mask. I feel the fight quickly leave my body and I slump over. Out cold.

I woke up with a headache. "Ugh, my head." I slowly get up and try to stop myself from getting vertigo. "So nice of you to join us, Trenton." I hear a voice come from the ceiling. Presumably speakers. It's machine-like, definitely a voice changer. "I'd like to perform an experiment, in which we have 4 participants. Joshua, Christoper, Ashley, and Trenton. Your choices will affect who lives or who dies, so let's get cracking shall we?" I get a better look at my surroundings. "Our two rats in the trap are Ashley and Joshua, and our first decision of tonight falls into Christopher's hands. In front of him, is a lever. Your choice is simple, who gets away and who remains in danger. I can assure you whomever you don't choose will not have a pretty ending. Tick tock Christopher."

I can see them through a screen from where I am, but I'm not able to hear whatever they are talking about, I can only see the devastation and terror on their faces. Chris bit his lip in indecision. In the end, I see him move the lever over to Ashley. "So you have chosen to save Ashley." A light edging ever closer to Joshes side of the setup. Both he and Ashley have been tied down to a wall, with an ominous track line running towards them.  "Now Trenton, this is where you come into play. There will be a sawblade coming to kill Joshua in a moment. To stop it, all you have to do is press that button beside you, but I won't be letting you go that easily. When you press that button, it will fill the room you are in with poisonous gas and you will die. The clock is ticking Trenton."

Oh god, what should I do? I pace the room back and forth fighting the urge to just punch a wall. I see a camera in the room recording my actions. Just out of reach. "Fuck man..." I crouch on the floor and cradle my face in my palms. I start hyperventilating. The breathing technique not working. 'Am I just going to watch another Washington die?! No, no, NO! I-i can't, I couldn't. I'm just going to get worse if I do that.' I look at the button, its surface calling to me. An escape. From all of this. 'No Trenton, that's not the right thought to be having'. I quickly change my thoughts. A button:  Your chance to set things right. I nod my head, and I press that damn button.