The Skeletøn Bøy

SIXTEEN

"Reality is never as bad as a nightmare, as the mental tortures we inflict on ourselves." — Sammy Davis, Jr

++ C H A P T E R | S I X T E E N ++

"Elliott, come play! You're just like us, now. A real skeleton!"

Elliott stepped out of the bathtub. The red water dripped off of him, and stained his clothes. He stared at a group of skeletons in front of him, all covered in remains of rotting flesh that smelled so foul it should have made Elliott gag.

It didn't. Because he smelled exactly the same, now.

The skeletons reached for him. They walked right through the door, and Elliott followed. The skeletons danced around him, pushing him in the middle of their circle. The skeletons looked like had just crawled from their graves. They weren't the skeletons people bought in stores - no, these were real, horrific skeletons. And they didn't look friendly, or happy, or clean.

"We've been waiting for you, Elliott. Mother said you'd be joining us soon! You ran away from her, right to your grave!"

Elliott spun in circles, He was confused, but more importantly, content. He'd beaten mother at her own game. He'd won.

"Join us, join us!" The skeletons continued to chant. "Shed your skin!"

Elliott did as they asked. He pulled from his body the stained clothing, then hesitated, looking at his skin. The skin covered in scars and tattoos - all reminders of what mother had done to him. What mother had turned him into.

"We'll help!" The skeletons offered, grabbing onto him from all angles. Then, they pulled and ripped his skin, tearing it clean off. Elliott screamed in pain, feeling nothing like he'd ever experienced before. When mother had cut open the skin of his hand and tore that off, he thought it was the worst. But now, the pain he felt then was intensified.

"It hurts at first, little skeleton boy! You have to go through pain to enter Hell. This is you being accepted, Elliott. Pain is how we love. And all of the devil's children deserve love!"

Elliott let the pain wash over him. He didn't fight it. And, when the skeletons were done, he stepped forward, just like them. A real skeleton.

The skeletons cheered, embraced him, then danced their way into his room. Elliott followed suit, and watched as they poured into his closet.

Elliott almost laughed at the irony. The skeletons in your closet.

He followed them, and shut the door. He turned, expecting to see the back of his closet, but he was surprised to find a world he'd never knew existed. The land before him stretched farther than the eye could see, and it was covered in dead trees and browning grass. And it was cold.

"Isn't Hell supposed to be warm?" Elliott asked, and the skeletons just laughed. They danced around him, their cackles so loud it was all he could hear.

"It is, Elliott! It's so hot here, your body is sensing it as cold."

Elliott got flashbacks of when he would turn the water on too hot in the shower, and it would feel cold on his hands but he'd known better to believe it was actually cold. This was the same thing, only his whole body felt cold.

It was so scalding hot in Hell that he couldn't feel it.

He followed the other skeletons as they danced further into the field. Elliott looked up to the sky, taking in it's ashy grey color. When his eyes adjusted back to the skeletons in front of him, he caught sight of new, nasty creatures.