What Do You Want?

Who Are You?

I heard a rapid popping noise. Sounded almost like fireworks, but it is not the time of year for them.

I'm in the lobby and people are running and screaming from the theater. Not fireworks. Gunshots.

As they crowd into the lobby in an effort to escape. Masked and hooded figures block all the exits, no one can escape. Those that try to run are grabbed by the figures. The gunshots have stopped. There are ten people at the mercy of these figures, each person being held with both their arms held out, like they are asking for a hug. 

The room is deathly quiet. The only place that could have been quieter was the vacuum of space. The silence dragged on for what felt like hours, but must have just been a few minutes.

The figures never spoke or made demands of any kind. We did not know what they wanted or who they were.

I am frozen in fear, as is the rest of the people. Afraid to move or speak for fear of drawing their attention.

One second it is silent. The next, pandemonium. The figures begin ripping the arms from their hostages. The sound is sickening. The skin ripping sounded like pulling a page from a book. The bones, joints, and ligaments popping and breaking from their sockets. Take cracking your knuckles and multiply it by a thousand is the closest I can come to describing this sickening noise. Blood spurts from the shoulders, the smell of iron is thick in the air. I'm sure the hostages are dead before they hit the ground.

Everyone else begins screaming and crying looking for any way to escape. No gunshots, no orders, nothing. The figures just stay where they are and do not try to stop any from leaving. What the hell do they want?

I finally make my own way out of there and book it to my car. I hear sirens in the distance. I do not feel relief, but dread as I hear them get closer

I do not know what possessed me to think this, but I had the strong feeling the police were in on whatever was going on and if they found out that is where I was running from, I would be dragged back. 

I drove home, following all traffic laws so I do not draw any unnecessary attention. 

I knew I could not tell anyone that I was there that day. I was determined to take what I knew to my grave.