Daniel Boone's House of Horrors

The Master

When Boone awoke, his mind barely registered the body beside him. The only thing on his mind was food. He would soon die without it. He stood up weakly, his legs shaking. He needed to move forward to find food. Gripping the wall with one hand, Boone stumbled forward, barely managing to get 5 feet before falling to the cold, hard ground in front of yet another door. He lay there for what felt like a year and a second all at once, letting misery’s sharp claws take hold of his soul, giving in to despair. What could he do if he could barely walk?!?! It was over, he wasn’t going to survive, he was now sure of it. No food, no water, no will to carry on. What did he have left? A broken down body and a gun with an almost empty magazine. Daniel let out a small whimper, sobbing out dry tears. This place may be hell, but he didn’t want to die! There was still a world out there, rooting for him to win his freedom back! But, if now was him time to go, he wouldn’t fight it any longer. Boon closed his eyes and let out a shallow breath, taking a moment to look back on his life as a whole before the time ended.

Then, through the wall of darkness, he heard it. It was a small noise, but it brought a large bubble of hope welling up to the surface of his chest and into his eyes where you could see it from a mile away. Plip, plip, plip. Drops of water hitting the floor at a steady beat. Boone let a cry of triumph struggle it’s way out of his dry, cracked lips and into the open air, feeling true happiness for the first time  since he entered this hellhole. It was right behind this thin piece of wood! So close, but how could he get to it? The door was closed, and Daniel could never reach the door in his state. The water was right there, he could hear it, but he couldn’t touch it, and put his lips to it.

Soon after, Daniel got his first burst of inspiration. He looked at his uniform sleeve, then tore it off, sad to let it go. It was his uniform, his pride. But his life was more important right now. He gripped the sleeve with both hands, and swung it upward, over the door handle. He had made himself a makeshift pulley. He laughed and marveled at his creativity. Nothing would keep him away now!

He wrapped his hand around the reflective glass handle and turned it, shoving the door with one final push. He took one look in the room and was shocked at what he found. Inside, a dinner party was under way. The large candlelit room was filled with 20 or so men and women in formal attire, sitting around an ornately carved mahogany table. It was polished so finely that the chandelier was reflected in every surface that wasn’t covered in every spot that wasn’t covering in mountains of food, wine, and desserts. Daniel stared onward, his mouth watering for the first time in days. Around him, the men and women carried on feasting without even observing his presence.

Powered solely by need, Boone dragged his ragged, out of place body towards the table, one arm length at a time. Before him lay platters full of turkey, biscuits, wine, water, and almost every delectable food known to man. When he reached the table, Daniel reached upward and pulled down as many biscuits and goblets of water he could hold, feasting upon these little treasures and having them down in a matter of minutes. Only when he had finished eating and drinking did he look up and notice the everything in the room had gone so starkly silent that you could hear a penny drop. All 20 pair of eyes in the room were trained viciously on him, like blood hounds reading in on the kill. Every single body in the room was a stone gargoyle whose eyes followed his every move as he stood slowly and backed away to the doorframe. Daniel knew that as soon as he ran past this line, he would have only seconds to gather a lead.

Without another thought, Boone sprinted out of the room in a spitfire, gaining only a few meters before the mob was out the door, arms outstretched and honed, razorlike fingers curled into claws. Boone ran, limping like a wounded dog. He lifted his pistol behind him and fired every last shot he had, hearing screams erupt from the crown but not hearing the pounding footsteps slow. Boone stumbled and was immediately run down by the oncoming crowd. They encroached on him, their faces looking more and more sinister by the second. Their claws raked every inch of his body, drawing blood wherever they touched. Boone screamed in agony, his whole body was burning! He thrashed, catching whoever he could, but it was no use. They tore at his exposed flesh, causing pain in whatever way they deemed fit. Some were biting, some clawing, and some just kicked, relentlessly at his innards. Somewhere along in this process, Daniel fell unconscious, almost crossing from the land of the living into the land of the dead, but something pulled him back. He reached toward the light, begging to be finally taken to where he belonged, but it held him back, telling him to endure. It was not yet time. Daniel quietly obeyed this force, and walked back to the land of the living.

When Boone awoke, he at first swore he was dead. He sat up, observing his surroundings. He was on a small bed, a bottle of water by his side. The room around him was completely barren except for a door straight ahead of him with a note nailed onto it. He stood shakily, grabbing his water and hastily taking a swig. He walked over to the door, his strength returning slowly. Leaning on the wall for support, Boone tore the note off the door and read it.

Daniel- I am quite sorry for the inconvenience, but I cannot let you to die yet. Youplay an even larger role in all of this than you believe. Good luck!

The Master

Boone crushed the note in a righteous fury. This pompous bastard thinks he controls his life? He was in for quite a surprise.