The Ordeals -Short Story Collection

Nightmare Catcher

It's dark. That thick kind of darkness that sticks to you; the kind of pitch black that makes you believe that the walls are covered in tar. And then a light appears. It's only faint, but I can see it clear as day. I make a run for it, one foot after the other beating down on the ground, The cruel shockwaves pierce my spine, but I run. My parched throat screams for water, my feet ache, but I go until my knees feel like they're going to buckle under me, and, in fact, they do. I desperately try to break my fall, but I feel my cheekbone slams into the ground, exploding with pain that makes my head spin. But it only lasts a moment.

When I look up from the floor, the walls are a grim shade of red, the checkerboard of floor tiles white and black. I peel myself into a standing position. The room has no windows, no doors, no way in or out. I check behind me for good measure, only to find the same thing. When I turn back around, a thin man in a suit is standing in front of me. He's wearing one of those old Victorian ones, with a waistcoat and tails and everything, complete with a pocket watch. His hands are covered in fancy white gloves, one of which is holding the brim of a top hat over one side if his face.

"Now, now, little lady." He says, sounding more like a carney than a gentleman. "Come and play the game of chance." He peers out at me with his beady yellow eye and a crooked smile.

"I don't think I want to play..." I mutter, backing away.

"Of course you do." His voice comes from behind me. I whirl around, only to meet his face just inches from mine. His gloved hand glides down my jawline, sending shivers right through me. "You have the opportunity of a lifetime! To find everything you've ever dreamed of. Riches, power, fame, all could be yours, and the odds are incredible! Fifty-fifty, a gambler's dream!"

"Everything I've ever wanted?" I ask.

"Absolutely everything." He replies, giving me a tap on the nose. "But you have to pay before you can play, my dear."

"I don't have any money..." I sigh, turning out the pockets of my worn jeans. He just laughed.

"It's not money I want, darling." He points to a little bottle tied around my neck, filled with grains of shining sand. "A soul. Pretty, isn't it? I just need a pinch, just a taste. You have plenty, and I only need a bit."

For the chance of a lifetime, only a few grains of this sandy stuff? I think to myself. What could go wrong? I untie the cork from around my neck and uncork the bottle. He plucks the fingers of his glove and slides it off. I pour four little grains into his wrinkled palm. He grins with delight and produces his very own small bottle, filled with different colours of sand and drops mine right in.

"Wonderful choice, my dear. Now, this way." He's back behind me, already briskly walking through a door that appeared from nowhere. The hallway is straight, but everywhere I look, the black and white checkerboard spins around us.

After what feels like an eternity, we end up in another room. It's identical to the first, except for two doors that loom before us. One is black and shiny, cold to the touch. The other is white, but old, with cracked paint and a rusty iron handle.

"Now then, choose wisely." His dips his hat with a little bow and steps back, gesturing to the doors.

I sit and think. I reach for each of the doors, hoping his reaction will give it away, but his smile is unwavering. My gut says to pick the black door, but it seems like a trick. Then again, the white door doesn't look like it leads to the land of my dreams. The decision of a lifetime, it makes me squirm. The carney just laughs. I push the white door with all my might. It resists a little, but at last it gives way. Behind it is a blackness, pierced by a golden light. I peer into the glare, seeing mountains of riches and a golden throne at the very top.

But no sooner have I taken my first step do I feel myself fall.