What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Afraid of the Dark

Unbearable Horrors

We didn't say anything else after he said we shouldn't talk anymore. I don't we wanted to talk anyways, the room looked horrifying, doors with blood, cracked mirrors with handprints, chairs bent out of shape, the liquid he gave us also timted our vision a shade of blue and made it seem like the air had a heat wave going through it. The air rippled and steamed, so if we tried to get up and walk, the room would seem to spin and tilt and we would fall over. We tried walking around a little, but every time we just fell down on the floor, so we gave up and sat down. The man was still there in the room with us, but he wasn't paying attention to us. He was rummaging around in his duffel bag, once in a while he would take something out, nod then place it next to a tool on the desk, he wouldn't always nod though, there were a few times where he took something out, shook his head then placed it back in the bag. After a few minutes he turned to us and said "Today's your lucky day girls, I happened to being my favorite tools along," as he named each thing he would gesture to it pointing, or sometimes holding it up like a trophy. "This, is a special knife, it's made to cut the skin and nothing more," he held up a small knife with a oak wood handle. I shuddered at the thought of him using it on us. We were so tired and we were to afraid of being hurt to try anything rebelious, or to try and escape. When he held up the knife it looked like the serrated edge of it was sharp enough to cut through bone. He took out handcuffs and put one "cuff" around my wrist and the other to the desk leg. Then he did the same to Chelsey except he cuffed her to the other side of the desk. He took out a flask and poured something onto a rag, he put the rag over my nose and mouth and I passed out. I fell into a blissful dream where Chelsey and I were walking in a park and we ordered a sundae to share. Then a mysterious man said Mam, you're bleeding, and walked away. I looked down at my stomach and saw my shirt was red with blood, I woke up screaming until my throte was raw. I breathed deep, ragged breathes and realized that my arms, legs, and stomach were stinging. I looked at my arms and saw they were wrapped in gauze, blood soaked through in some spots and my legs were the same. Shaking, I pulled up my shirt which was red and wet, strange, I didn't take a shower and my shirt was grey before...oh, I remembered what happened and looked at my gauze-free stomach, I OWN YOU was written on it in messy cuts all through the middle of my stomach. I felt sick, did my arms or legs have engravings on them too? Or was it just my stomach? I looked over at Chelsey, who was still passed out, he had done the same thing to her, cut her, then wrapped her up in gauze except for her stomach. Her shirt was also blood stained and when I gingerly lifted her shirt, I found he cut the same I OWN YOU on her stomach. Why would someone do that? I wondered silently crying to myself, we didn't deserve this. To my surprise, I saw that the man had left the room after he had delt with us, and we were completley alone. It looked the same, the same horrifying features, the same blue tint and the same heat wave effect as it did before we passed out. What else has he planned? I wonder before passing out again.