Hell bent (short stories)

Functional

I sit in a white room, the floors are a plush white and feels like a mattress. There's a black two way window right in front of me, mirror side facing me. I walk over and place my hands on the cool glass and stare. I see my hazel eyes, so big they could've been a dolls. My pale face looks translucent under the harsh light in the room. My hunter green hair plastered to my face with sweat from the scalding, thick air. I look at the gown that hangs loosely around my body that feels like paper and could rip at an moment exposing my skin. My right wrist has a band around it. It says words and numbers I can't seem to make out. I turn around and scan the room, there's a bed and.... four walls... Oh look, and a floor. How kind. 

A few seconds later, I hear a sliding noise and jump onto the bed. I watch as a bright yellow and red figure slides out from under the bed and I have to stifle a scream. The figure stands, the first thing I notice about it is it's eyes, one blue and one brown. I cock my head to the side and then run my eyes along the body of the figure. It's red, puffy hair sticks up, it's face is a pasty white and it's nose is round and red. It's oversized lips are obviously painted on in a bright, disgusting red turned up into a never ending smile. I turn my gaze from its face to the body. There is yellow suit with a puffy collar and its clean except for a few blotches of red. I follow the long sleeve to its hands, to which were drenched in red, dripping off the tips of its fingers. 

Drip....drip....drip 

The figures breathing is annoyingly loud. 

"You think you could breathe... oh i don't know, quieter?" 

The figure- to which is obviously a clown-looks offended by this. It's  eyes widen and its smile turns to a scowl. I just stare blankly at it. The clown seem irritated by the lack of reaction from me. It started getting closer to me, with every step, it's oversized shoes sound like a dog toy. 

Step, squeak.....step, squeak....step, squeak.....step

The clown finally reaches me and leans over to my face. It smells of latex and paint. The clown opens its mouth, jaw clicking and its mouth is growing larger and larger. My heart races a little and I start yelling. 

" there's someone in my room!" I scream it until someone flings the door open. My heart still racing, I see Mr. Clown -as I've decided to call him- running out the door shoes squeaking all the way down the hall. 

Once the woman who came in has calmed me down and given me water she assures me no one was going to come back. I nod and lay down. The woman leaves, shutting the door with a soft, metallic thud just as I doze off.

A couple of hours later, all the lights are off except for the one in the hallway and I hear the loud breathing again, except it's right in my ear. I could feel the heavy breath on my lobe and my stomach drops to the floor. I start screaming again and when the door flings open this time, it's a tall, lanky man. He stalks in and puts this wire muzzle over my mouth and tells me to shut it in a harsh voice and I hear the squeaking in the hallway agin. 

This happens every night to two weeks until one day I wake up in a dark room and I can't move my arms, I feel as if I'm being hugged. When I look down I'm in a cream jacket the wraps wound me and my mouth refuses to move under the weight of the muzzle on my face. 

I can hear the breathing again. Over and over. The heat traces my face and my skin prickles with every breath. I see his mouth open then close. Mr. Clown leans in and giggles as he slams his hand into my stomach and gripping my organs and I feel them twisting and hear them squelching under his pressure. I fell him get on top of me and reach both hands in and throw my blood and orange around the room shouting, "play time!"In a voice so demonic I couldn't believe I've heard it. Over and over again, the pain trickle down my back and legs. I hear snaps as he starts breaking off my ribs one by one.

Snap....snap....snap....sssssnap

I can feel him drumming on my other ribs with the two already in his hands. And my heart feels as if it's straining to pump. 

Darkness enclosed me and the pain drifts away slowly. 

  "Breaking news! Inmate  in asylum is brutally murdered." Says the reporter on the TV. My hands drip with blood as I stand above a girl to which is gasping for air as I step on her throat and giggle. 

"pLaY TiMe!"