Short Stories

PROMPT: 'Everybody's Got Their Demons... '(5SOS Edition)

A high pitched cackle bubbles from Sergei's throat, his mouth wide open and his lips red like a bleeding wound across his pale hollow face. Sergei's head lolls backwards over the edge of the chair causing his raven hair to blend in perfectly with the thick darkness that surrounds him.

His wrists are bloody underneath the leather restraints that attach him to the rigid chair; his black button-down shirt hangs limp from his bony, broad shoulders. The black shirt-much like his hair-molds perfectly with the blackness around him, it makes his deathly pale torso glow stark white in the pale, fluorescent light. The single light bulb that hangs from the bare ceiling swings to and fro as if pushed by an invisible hand. The light accentuates the scratches that line his torso, the dried blood-once the dark brown of scabs-is made to look like someone grabbed a red sharpie and drew lines all over Sergei's navel.

Sergei's head continues to loll over the back of the chair in time to the steady drip!drip! of the blood coming from the long, deadly looking gash on his neck.

The artificial sun begins to flicker a little, this throws the room into momentary, but complete, darkness. Sergei jerks up, his body straight and his eyes wide. Sergei used to have the most amazing chocolate brown eyes, but that was before the incident. Now his eyes are no longer that beautiful chocolate brown, they are bloodshot and crazed, flitting around the dark room searching. Searching for something.

crack! His head snaps to the right, a movement so quick it's like he broke his neck to accomplish it. He tenses, his malnourished body taught and ready to fight. For a few seconds he seems to be frozen, the only thing moving are his eyes, shifting left and right in the darkness. Just as suddenly as he started, his mouth begins to open in a silent scream-his mouth stretches incredibly wide it seems as though it's going to rip his face in half.

"GO AWAY!" Sergei's shrill voice echoes throughout the room. To complement the shriek being emitted from his mouth, Sergei jerks his arms violently upwards causing the chair to rattle harshly with his continued attempts to break free and escape. Sergei starts to convulse, his head snapping back and forth, left and right with the cracking of his joints joining the frenzy; his legs smash against the floor and the chair legs making them even more bloody than they already are: toes bleeding, skin shearing off.

Snap! The restraints give way, the leather flying up and off his wrists leaving the bloody horror underneath in full view, even more red than anticipated. His hands flail for a moment before he gains the power to move them again. Once the ability to control his arms returns, they go straight to his head. Sergei's fingertips begin to claw at his head, they thread themselves in his hair and scratch at the skin. Blood runs in rivulets down his face and neck, making the pale skin shine with an even brighter ghostly glow.

"MAKE THEM STOP!" The shrillness of his voice is unbearable. The light flickers once more as though controlled by his screams. The thrashing and screaming looks like and twisted and violent dance, the horror so dangerous it's almost beautiful.

click! As though a switch has been flipped, Sergei's whole body stops. Everything stops: the light stops swinging to and fro, Sergei's arms fall limp on the arms of the bloody chair, his legs stops thrashing against the ground, his whole body goes slack. The only sign that he isn't dead is the rapid rise and fall of his paper-thin chest.

Sergei begins to move like he is attached to puppet strings. His back straightens, staring from the hips and rolling upwards until his head lolls forward, his chin to his chest. Sergei's whole body becomes rigid, his arms right angles on the arms of the chair, his feet perfectly flat on the floor. His head lifts and the sight is petrifying.

His lower jaw hangs down, the force of gravity too much for him, and his lips are drawn back over his white teeth. His nostrils are flares wide and the veins in his neck and face are visible shining a bright blue and purple. His chest continues to rise and fall in time with the hurried shallow breathing that passes through his wide mouth, the fast palpitating of his heart is clearly visible at his throat. Slowly his long pianists finger begins to twitch. The room darkness like he's casting a curse; an unfathomable darkness seeps from Sergei's every pore, the blackness dripping out from underneath his anemic skin.

The air around him seems to gather towards him, the air thickens and the rise and fall of his chest speeds up. His shallow frequent breaths very audible in the packed silence. Sergei's chest rises and falls once more. His pulse stutters in his throat and stops, his tongue flops out of his mouth and hangs against his chin.

First his head falls, chin hitting his chest once again, acting like a catalyst for the rest of his body to fall slack and slam against the hard-wooden chair one final time.

creak! The sound of squealing hinges rips through the room, closely followed by loud, heavy footsteps. The footsteps cease, only to be replaced with a lighter, high-heeled pair. click!clack! The second set walks forwards then stops.

"Shit! It killed him!" A rough voice curses as their bulky shadow looms over Sergei's limp body.

"I know, what a shame! He was doing so well." A coy feminine voice drawls. "Take the body away." The sound of long nails clicking together rings out and promptly more footsteps approach the body of Sergei.

Under the white fluorescent light, the yellow of the people's suits shine and the black body bad they hold between them seems even more black than the darkness surrounding them. They yellow clad people roughly stuff Sergei's unresisting body into the body bag and haul it out unceremoniously.

"Try again, maybe you'll get it right the next time." The feminine voice condescends and her click!clack! recedes as she walks out of the room. A skin on stubble noise lights the room up before the heavier set of footsteps leave. The door slams shut behind the heavy footsteps, effectively drowning out any noise from outside the room.

Whispering begins to fill the room, incoherent voices talking over one another. It gets louder and louder until it sounds like a stadium full of people shouting at the same time. The light begins to flicker, slowly at first. However, just like the whispering, the light flickers faster and faster, throwing the room into an epileptic fit.

whoosh! Everything stops. The light goes out and the shouting stops. As if in the distance a small laugh rings out. The light flickers on once more to reveal Sergei, eye sockets hollow, sitting in the chair with his head turned towards the direction of the door. Centimeters at a time his lips lift up into a smile worthy of the joker.

The door opens once again, and the light goes off.

Remember me. 

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A/N 

I freaked myself out writing this. 

-shivers lightly-

Probably wasn't a good idea to write this at night...

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