Ink Me Insane (Book One)

Twelve

Tap, tap, scratch. Tap, tap, scratch.

Rene snapped up wide awake at the sound. Rubbing her eyes with her thumb and index finger of her right hand, she tried to get her bearings. It really was a episode in futility. What was there even to ground yourself with in the pit? "Michael?" Her voice came out quietly and more shaky than she cared for.

Rene cleared her throat carefully, "Michael?"

Nothing greeted Rene but the abyss. She spoke louder, "If this is some kind of joke, it's not funny." Silence. "Alright fire boy, if you don't say something right now I'm going to introduce my foot to your boys downstairs when I get out of here."

Death. That was her first thought to the quiet continued ensuing silence. Death had come calling to the pit's door. If Michael had been out there he would have not been able to hold in, at the very least, that laughter of his to her threat. Rene shifted her position so she could press her ear to the door. Tap, tap, scratch. Tap, tap, scratch. What the freak was causing that sound? Then again maybe the more important question was who. Had the guards come to drag her to her end at the chair? It seemed to be the only logical explanation. Rene had no idea what time it was or how long she had been in here. The pit was almost a universe unto itself. Time flowed differently here. It slowed to a near stand still, trying to squeeze all the sanity from its latest victim. An anaconda, the pit was darkness itself personified to suffocate you with barely a thought or effort by those in charge. So unless Rene had really jumped the sanity boat and was hearing the grim reaper outside the door, here for what was left of her soul, it was time for the chair. She'd rather take her chances with the reaper. Oh well, it appears they'll be meeting soon enough. Rene frowned pressing her ear even deeper to the metal as though she could phase through to the other side. Where's a cup when a girl needed one? Wait, was that singing?

"Who's afraid of the big bad wolf, the big bad wolf, the big bad wolf? Who's afraid of the big bad wolf? Tra La La La La." A sickly sweet voice sung softly from the other side in time with the noise. Tap, tap, scratch. Tap, tap, scratch.

Rene scrambled backwards away from the door as quickly as possible. Granted, there really wasn't anywhere to go in the pit, but she knew being next to the door was still idiotic. This crap was straight out a horror movie and now came the part where the blonde died. The blonde always dies for, let's be honest, being stupid. Separated from her by mere concrete was something far worse than the chair or the grim reaper coming calling, someone far crazier had decided to pay her a visit. Ironic, huh she had just come up with that nickname for her earlier today and here she was singing a calling card for Rene. How sweet. Freakin' irony. All sounds abruptly ceased. Oh crap now what? Rene shakily stood up gazing intently at the general direction of the door. Had she imagined it all? Don't be stupid, stay still. Don't be the horror movie girl, remain as far away from the door as possible. And for God's sake don't be Red Riding Hood and walk straight up to the wolf to be eaten. Silence. One heartbeat, two. Son of...she had to know if it was all in her mind.

Rene crept carefully edging along the wall back towards the door. The only sound that assaulted her ears was her own heartbeat. The stupid thing was wild and erratic. Dang it. Rene tried to take a calming breath. In through your nose, hold, out through your mouth; what could be a helpful technique that surprisingly Miss Rachel taught her. It sounded more like a fish out of water gasping desperately for life. She really didn't want to be a dying fish. Keep moving, slowly inch towards the door, that's it almost there. No sound greeted her. Perhaps it was just her crazy mind hearing voices again. She could live with that. Better than the alternative anyway, which may actual kill her given the chance. Rene clenched her hands into fists as she approached the last foot from the door. No matter what she'd be ready. Screw the new strategy. It was time to go down swinging and end the game with a bang.