Here’s another story for Fiction Friday. Again, I tried horror. I’m not that good at it yet, but here’s another stab in the dark (pun intended…)
When she opened her eyes, she still saw nothing. She awoke standing up, as far as she could tell. Her feet were touching a solid surface, although she didn’t have the full weight of her body on them. Something was holding her slightly off the ground.
“Hello?” she called out nervously. “Hello? Anyone there?”
Disoriented, she tried to recall the last thing she could remember. Her memory was blank. She even failed to remember her name. That made her panic and she tried to move forward. Something was grasping her from behind, preventing her from moving. It pulled at her waist. In the black, she felt around her body, and found the metal prongs squeezing her waist. She moves her fingers around to her back and could feel a pole behind her. She tucked a foot behind her and could feel it in the ground where she stood.
“Hello? Can someone help me?” She called out again.
She thought she could feel the presence of someone out there, but the silence was as unnerving as the darkness. She knew she would have to rely on her hands at this point. She grabbed the metal prong on the left side with both hands and pushed as hard as she could. It didn’t budge. Unwilling to fail, she tried the other side. She grabbed it from the inside and attempted to push it away from her.
“I know you’re out there, can you see me? I think I’ve gone blind,” she desperately cried.
She continued to push on the metal prongs until she started crying.
“Shh. Don’t cry.” It was a small voice in the distance.
“Who are you? Can you help me?” She became startled. It occurred to her that whoever answered was responsible for her situation.
“No, I can’t help you. None of us can.”
“How many are there of you? I’m trapped and I can’t see anything,” her lips started trembling again.
“We know.” It was another voice, closer than the first. “There’s nothing we can do.”
She began crying again.
As her body shook, the metal prongs chaffed against her stomach. She pulled herself up with her hands. She noticed she had some room to move around and she thought she might be able to pull herself through the prongs. She tried to kneel, but she could not fit her arms and shoulders through the opening between the prongs. She pulled herself up again and slowly her hips squeezed through the opening. Once she had the leverage of her body to pull them apart a bit more and she pushed her legs through.
“You’re making a lot of noise over there,” a third, sad voice groaned. “If I can hear you, so can she.”
“Who?” She questioned as she climbed down from the metal pole and prongs. “If you can hear me, why won’t you help me? We’re all in the dark, so no one can see me. I can’t even see you.”
“Don’t be angry with us,” the sad voice pleaded. “We are trying to help. Be quiet so she can’t hear you.”
She was getting angry. “Who are you?”
“We don’t know.”
She shook her head in disbelief. She didn’t know how she got here or how she thinks she is going to get out, but she knew she could take one careful step at a time.
She let out a sigh and put both arms stretched out in front of her. She took a small step.
Something smacked the front of her hand. She started to back away and turned to her right. Again, something hit her hand. Frustrated, she stepped forward, with her hands outstretched, she felt a solid surface. Moving her hands all over, it appeared there was no opening. She carefully moved back to the metal prongs and felt behind them. The same solid surface covered everything.
She screamed out of frustration and banged her fist against the surface. It felt like a window, glass of some sort. She wondered if she were in prison.
“You’ll get us all in trouble.”
“You won’t like it when she comes back.”
She floated to the floor and began silently sobbing. “What else am I suppose to do?”
“When you see her, you’ll be thankful for the dark and the quiet,” the small voice answered, almost crying as well.
“How did we get here?” She asked.
“We don’t know.”
“I do. I remember,” a grouchy voice answered. “I saw her one day, out on the street. Next day, I wake up here. Couldn’t remember my own name, but I do now. She calls me something else, it’s stupid.”
“I’m not staying here!” She banged her hands against the glass as hard and as fast as she could. She could hear movement around her. The voices were becoming uncomfortable, but they weren’t coming to help her at all. The darkness must have driven them mad.
The harder she banged the wall, the more rustling she heard. It seemed she was in a vast space, and there could have been hundreds of them in there, all locked up like prisoners. She banged her fist with each sobs.
Slowly, she realized that the floor beneath her also moved slightly. Out of desperation, gave her a thought. She started slamming her whole body into the glass.
“You don’t want to do that,” the sad voice said, panicking. “You’ll fall.”
She ignored the voices. They were content with this silence and darkness. She wasn’t afraid of whoever “she” was. The harder she slammed, the more the floor moved forward. She started to smile. She was getting hopeful. She knew she would break out of this prison.
“Oh no. I think I hear her coming!” a voice far away cried out.
Good, she thought. She wanted to come face to face with her captor. This gave her more strength. She slammed into the glass harder and harder with each attempt.
From a distance, she heard a door swing open, the noise booming in her ears. At the same time, she felt the floor tilt beneath her. She sighed of relief.
It was only momentary. The floor tilted, then began to fall. She was falling along with her prison cell. The walls of her prison hit the ground. The cacophony of the shattering glass was deafening.
At first, it appeared she had died in the fall. She was lifeless on the ground.
“What happened?” The closer voices whispered. No one answered. Steps boomed into the room, and the door slammed shut.
She was jolted awake by the blinding lights above her. Staring straight up into the lights, she only saw the distant white from the florescent lights that seemed miles above her.
Still unable to move, she quickly darted her eyes around her. As her eyes adjusted, she was terrified by what she saw. She wanted to run, but she was still frozen on the cold linoleum floor. She tried breathing, but when she landed on her back, the wind was knocked from her, and lungs screamed.
Eventually, she noticed she could move her limbs and slowly tried to pulled herself up. The distant booming of footsteps was getting closer. She looked down and eyed the metal device that trapped her in the glass cell.
Once the roaring steps stopped right behind her, she noticed, the others were quiet again. Trembling, she looked up over her aching shoulder. Her eyes followed the figure upward, toward the light. The figure bent down, plucking her from the wreckage of broken glass on the floor.
“Oh no,” the girl’s voice roared. “Someone’s been bad.”
Unable to fight her grasped, she felt limp. She was placed back where her glass prison once stood.
The room came into focus. She saw the clown doll, with the sad voice. He stood motionless in his glass case. Next to her was the source of the small crying voice, a porcelain child, with a frozen smile on her face. She looked down at her own self, and noticed the stitching along her arms and legs. Looking into the looming face of her captor, she saw a young girl taking pride in her collection.
“I have to punish the bad ones,” she said grinning wickedly.