The Educator (dark h.s)

chapter 4 - bedlam

A sour decayed smell stung my nose as my consciousness started to come back guardedly. My head was spinning, I felt a horrible headache and I couldn't shake off the feeling of something heavy pressing my head, it felt oddly real. In order to get rid of the blurriness that settled in my eyes, I tried to raise my hands but failed miserably. Was I in no control of my body or?

All of a sudden I was wide awake, gazing down at my hands to find heavy steel rings attaching them to the armrests of a wooden oak chair. I let my eyes contemplate the gloomy mysterious room which I was unwillingly established in. On its walls hung paintings in golden frames and some rich fancy tapestries. I couldn't examine the furniture clearly since the room was only lightened up by a small candelabra, adding to the already thick tension and to the horrendous feeling in my gut that an extremely bad occurrence was about to take place. However, I still held deep faith that it was all a terrifying delirium that will be over soon. Thus I took a deep breath and squeezed my eyes shut.

While my eyelids remained thus shut, I ran over in my mind my reason for being here and the former actions. Regretfully, I came to the conclusion that my imagination hadn't deceived me. Several minutes had passed and I could still feel the cold object rubbing my soft skin when I let my eyes flutter open. That was no nightmare, that was reality.

Unfortunately, my vision was limited by a heavy object that felt as though a reverse bear trap was locked on my head. At least I could breath oxygen into my lungs freely. Well not freely due to that stifling room but enough to keep myself alive. I glanced around the room again to look for signs of a living soul but was half disappointed and half relieved to find none.

The ropes chaining my sore ankles were almost imperceptible but slowly burned my crimson skin. The creepy candelabra that hung above my head seemed as though it was going to crash down right into my spinning head and squash my brain out. I looked straight ahead at the vague fancy yet industrial room and couldn't help but breakdown. Warm unwelcoming tears started streaming down my face, hitting the harsh metal as I screamed my life out. I briefly tried to take the chains off me though, they wouldn't budge. Was I going to rot out in this malodorous room until I died? There was clearly no way out.

I desperately sighed as I couldn't even wipe the tears away let alone move my aching arms. This psycho was apparently watching me right now and laughing his lungs off at my innocence and hopelessness. The lack of light in the room only added to my growing fear. Obviously, a few candles attached together in a candelabrum couldn't light up such a big area like a room.

Despite the nebulous room I abruptly spotted a painting on the wall that stood out and caught my attention, it was a portrait of a macular tough man. His broad shoulders and icy blue eyes stared at me as if he were creepily alive. On his side, almost imperceptibly stood a young boy, his tiny arms wrapped round the bigger figure, holding him closely. His gaze was directed up to the tough male and I couldn't help but notice the cute dimple popping on his left cheek as he looked up admiringly with a rare sparkle of pride in his deep forest green eyes and the mischievous smile on his young face.

He looked oddly familiar.

I couldn't stop the grin from creeping across my face despite the unearthly horrifying situation I was stuck in. Kids always make me happy due to their natural happiness, they're never fake and always seem to say the complete truth. And most importantly, they're yet to get corrupt by the evilness of our world. I wish I had little siblings.

All of a sudden industrial noises were heard and the wall ahead of me towered above creakingly as if it were all freaking décor. The portrait didn't budge an inch though, staying right in its place.

I shrieked in surprise when I spotted a man laying on the floor chained to a thick pipe at the ankle, the man had dark hair and numerous tattoos on his olive skin, his mouth was slightly open and a rather big bruise was inscribed on his pale right cheek. He glared up at me and as soon as his gaze met mine an unwelcoming chill ran down my spine, His eyes held a dark swirl of brooding anger and frustration. You sure as hell wouldn't want to run into this guy late at night or even at all. I guess something about him just seemed off.

"Woah, what's your name pretty girl?" Someone's voice was heard from the other side of the room. I shifted my gaze to find another guy chained to a pipe right across the other creep. Only this man looked a bit younger and had blonde hair instead of pitch black. I could also tell he held a bit of an excess weight and was also quite tattooed.

What for crying god was I doing in that room with those wankers?

I didn't even bother to reply, wanting nothing to do with this deranged looking man.

All of a sudden an almost indistinguishable screen in a remote corner of the room struggled open. My heart stopped beating as a muscular man wearing a ridiculously weird mask was revealed. Was it a sort of a sick joke or?

He started talking.

"Hello. You don't know me but I know you. I want to play a game. The devices on your heads are symbolic of the terror you place upon others. You recklessly kill people for their little amount of money they obviously worked their arse off to have, you cheat in gambling and let the clueless misled people you trick suffer through the rough consequences. But not today, today you have become the prey and it is your own pound of flesh that will be sacrificed."

All of a sudden I took notice of the horrendous harnesses quipped on their heads with screws positioned on either side of it. They both looked as if the colour had been drained out of their faces slowly and torturously. The black haired guy let out a fearful scream and I couldn't help but cringe at the sudden noise.

"The scale in front of you will be the only key to freedom." He trailed off in that too familiar raspy strong voice.

"However, only one of you will pass."

I don't even see how I fitted here, maybe this bloody bear trap on my head was programmed to pierce my skull as well? It did look different to their harnesses though. Was I going to die that night? Hope not, i'd barley experienced life just yet, was pretty far from exhausting it.

That place felt so psychotic at that moment with all the ear piercing screams, cries, begs, and that creepy lack of light in the room. And on top of it the mysterious portrait and the ridiculously spooky masked man with the firm raspy voice. I was dead sure I was in a bedlam.

Hiii loves!

This chapter may be quite confusing and indistinct but don't worry, everything including the rules will be explained next chapter.

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