Attic Monsters

Nightmares

Tight metal rings bind my hands behind my back. They cut into my wrists insuring that I don't escape.  A piercing coldness from the metal pierces through my skin and travels up my arms.  My fingers start to tingle and my body is shaking. If any second that I stop, disaster will come. Any falter in my steps, and they make sure it is known.

One of the guards pushes me forward. “Hurry up, we don't have all day.” The lack of stability sends me to the ground. As I hit it, pressure releases on my shoulder with a loud pop. My eyes close momentarily and I clutch my teeth in both anger and pain. “That’s for James.”

The guard lets me wallow on the floor for a few minutes in my own self pity before grabbing my arms tightly and standing me back up. We continue to walk. He pushes on my injured shoulder every few seconds causing bolts of pain to travel through my body.

We finally make it down the hallway, only stopping at the room of despair. They tried so hard to keep away the presence of death, but no matter what, it is still there. Shadows as black as hell jump across the walls leaving trails of crimson. The stench of death gets stronger and stronger the farther I am lead to the room, but no one seems to notice it.

Suddenly, the shadows stop their rapid movement. A million eyes of the reaper start to pierce into my soul before a shrill fills the silence and the shadows disappear into thin air. A rough hand grasps my arm and leads me closer. My eyes close and my breath start to hinder as I try to collect myself. I’m finally going to die.

As my eyes open, my head is facing towards the metal chair. In its void sits a frail girl tied down by metal clamps. Chains start to rattle as she thrashes violently trying to break free. The clamps dig deep into her wrists as blood starts to pool on the floor.  Her pupils grow wide from terror as she glances around frantically. A loud click fills the silence and immediately the smell of burnt flesh reaches my nose. It's like a barbeque on the fourth of July, the smell is sweet, but the thought brings horror to the pit of my stomach. As her hair starts to burn, everything goes sour. It's starts to smell of sulfur, like rotten eggs laying in the sun. My throat starts to burn as I try not to gag. Screams ring off the girl's chest causing me to shudder, but I don't look away.  Her breath becomes uneven as she nears her last moments. Her muscles are tense, but somehow she manages to move her head. Eyes glossy from pain stare straight into my soul. With her last breath she let’s off a loud chuckle. The noise rattles my bones as I stand like a statue. The eyes of the dead girl are still on mine. The eyes that will forever haunt me in the afterlife. The eyes of a face that I call my own.  

“Move!” yells one of the guards. His voice breaks me from the trance and I quickly turn my head away from her lifeless eyes. A shiver goes down my spine, but I have​ to look again. It’s not possible that I just witnessed my own death, I can still hear my heart beating in my chest. My head turns back towards the chair, but its seat is vacant.

I feel the rough hand of the guard grasp onto my wrist as he spins me around in front of the chair.  

“Sit,” he demands, so I do what he says. The cold metal of the chair cuts into my spine. The guard starts to fumble with the millions of keys on his chain, before finally finding the right one. Immediately after they unlock my cuffs, my hands forcefully jerk to the side and clasp down. Next comes my feet, I don't try to get away.

More straps are bound around my chest and groin preventing me from moving even the slightest inch. My eyes watch every movement the guard makes and I look at him in a vicious curiosity as he brings over one more strap. He places it over my head and around my eyes until my vision is forced to go black. Next, a loud squeal sounds next to my ears and a metal helmet is placed on top of my head.

I let loose a deep breath that I didn't know I’m holding. The footsteps of the guard start to decline farther away. In my mind, I try to prepare myself for the excruciating agony that is yet to come, but my own death keeps on flashing over and over again. Would I smell myself burn, or would I already be gone?