by author E. Motketsan
Kyle stared at the ceiling looking at the stained tiles above him.
The rust colored water stains took the shape of previously terrorized
victims. Victims, who had their pain etched across them, and
understood the helplessness he was feeling. The tiles, like that of
some bizarre quilt, were woven together by the misery of its victims
who had shared their pain in the small, unforgiving room. It was a
quilt that told a story. A story of how, in what we call a civilized
society, victims were taken to the small room and subjected to a
series of agonizing tortures.
How could it be that Kyle was here again? What in his life had he
done that deserved this horrifying experience? He looked at the walls
that surrounded him. There were no windows to shed light on the
darkness that went on inside. There was only the bluish, pale light
coming from the florescent fixture above him. The light flickered and
hummed, calling out to him with the voices of others. The deafening
sound of a hundred cries calling out for mercy. The sound cut through
Kyle’s flesh, and seemed to shatter his bones, as he lay helplessly
in the room.
Kyle quivered as he lay, waiting for his turn to come. He was so
cold. Why was it so cold? Was it the spirits of previously tortured
victims that made the room so cold? There was the sound of footsteps
coming from outside the door. Shadows could be seen, from the small
opening beneath the door, looming about. No! No, not yet! It can’t
be time for me yet! Kyle’s thoughts echoed through the depths of his
mind. He lay there, motionless, staring at the opening. Kyle watched
as the shadow moved slowly across the doorway, and let out a sigh of
relief when the shadow moved on down the hallway. The shadow was going
to another room, where the same terror was taking place. There another
victim would endure the pain and misery.
Kyle turned his head. He was safe for now. The shadow was gone. The
cold metal chain around his neck seemed to be tightening with every
move of his head. It lay on the back of his neck like some tremendous
weight. Was this the weight of his past sins? The chain cut into his
neck like a slow turning saw blade, cutting into him bit by tiny bit.
With every turn of his head it went a little deeper, reminding him of
He rolled his eyes to the left, only to realize what he was lying
next to. He hadn’t noticed it before. When did they bring it in? Was
someone in the room? When did they bring the rectangular metal tray?
His heart began to pound as he lifted his head to see over the lip of
the metal tray. His eyes fixed on it as his head moved slowly upward.
He could almost…What was on it? He could almost see over the lip…a
little more…"No!" Kyle gasped. He stared at the contents,
the devices of evil. The devices that inflicted the pain on whoever
entered the small room. The shiny metal objects, reflecting the light
from overhead, were razor sharp. The light was turned into hundreds of
laser beams that bounced around the room searching out a target. The
sharpened tools of misery lay side by side, not one was out of place.
They were soldiers lined up straight, waiting to use their weapons on
the enemy. The enemy lying in the small room.
Kyle glanced around his room. His eyes glazed over as he stared at
the walls that were spattered with the blood of previous victims. How
could a society let this go on for so long? What evil force kept this
room open? Kyle closed his eyes and tried to take his mind to another
place, a place of calmness. Somewhere that he couldn’t feel the
pain. A place where he could, once again, feel safe. A place where…
The door burst open! Kyle lay there still. He tried not to move but
felt himself shaking with fear. Fear! Fear of the small room! Fear of
the pain that went on inside this dark and terrifying place. Fear of
the shadow that entered the room. Fear of fear itself. Why did he have
to come here?
The shadowy figure moved toward him. His face was masked, but Kyle
saw the devious smile that he wore beneath the mask. It was the smile
that came from inflicting the pain and the misery on his victims. His
cold uncaring eyes never looked at Kyle, but penetrated right through
to his soul. Kyle could feel the burning inside.
Kyle’s heart was pounding; his breathing heavy and uneasy. The
pounding in his chest echoed in his ears. The deafening sound drowned
out his screams of terror as the shadow moved closer and closer to
where he lay. Kyle tried to move, but his body lay there helpless.
What did they give him? Was he paralyzed? The shadowy figure loomed
above his head. He called out instructions to him but Kyle never heard
them over the sound of his pounding heart. The shadow moved his hands
on Kyle’s face. He pried his jaws apart. "No!" Kyle tried
to scream but no words would come. He saw the shadow reach onto the
metal tray and pick up one of the tools. "No!" Kyle tried to
scream again. The lights flickered as if to laugh at the futile cries
of help. The stains on the tiles seemed to change. The faces of the
victims seemed to be more agonizing. Calling out to him in despair but
unable to help him in his moment of need.
The shadowy figure moved the metal device closer and closer to his
jaw. Kyle tried to turn his head but the chain around his neck dug in
only further. The shiny tool reflected his face of terror as the
shadow drove it deep into his mouth. Kyle flinched as he felt the
metal point of the device enter into his jaw, driving deep inside his
head before the slow burning sensation of the liquid entered his body.
The shadow pulled the device from the back of his mouth. He held it up
high, as if to show Kyle the full view of the cause of his terror and
pain. The shadow dropped the device on the tray and walked out of the
room with a terrifying laugh.
Kyle lay there, helpless. He could no longer feel anything. The
stains that shaped the victims faces on the ceiling seemed to blur
away. The florescent light above him became a soothing aura of bluish
colors, like a child’s night-light that kept the monsters away until
the morning sun rose from its resting-place. The spattered drops of
blood that covered the walls turned to various patterns of flowered
The shadowy figure entered the room again. Kyle moved his head to
look into his eyes. The shadow smiled at him and said, "So, how
are you doing? Did the novocaine take hold yet?"
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