Hospitality

My mother used to tell me “treat other how you wish to be treated”. If only she had told more people than just me. Maybe I would not be handcuffed to a railing in the basement of some psycho’s house. Maybe I would know why I’m here or how I got here or maybe even where I am.  I was on my way to work; I stop for my usual coffee, black, two sugars. The philosophy was to help me stay alert. Ironic if you ask me, given the circumstances. Then I cut through the park and BAM everything goes black and next thing you know I’m here.

 I don’t know much but I know I’m not alone. Every so often that psycho comes and sits on the stairs and looks at me, I would describe him for you but he wears a hockey mask, cliché I know but I’m not one to judge. Back to him staring, he just sits there for a minute or so then lets out a hysterical laugh and storms back upstairs. From what I can gather I’ve been here a while, a couple of hours or so and he does this quite frequently.

I’ve tried conversing, just a friendly

“Hello”

But he doesn’t seem like the dialogue type. A social pariah if you will. I’ve tried breaking free, looking for some conveniently placed tool I could use to cut free and stop the villain from some treacherous plot but hey I guess horrors movies aren’t the best instruction manuals for a situation like this. Nothing is for this type of situation; life doesn’t really prepare you to be locked in a basement while some lunatic has some little project going on upstairs that you will probably become a part of. Horror movies really nailed the shock in that sense.

 After looking for the non-existing tool I struggle, you know the next cliché in the horror movie timeline. The only difference is I’m not getting out of this, sorry for the spoiler guys. I’ve accepted my fate, that doesn’t mean I have to like it, but hey I’m a glass half full kind of man. An optimist; well at least in here I am, or want to be. Ever noticed those people who say faith is obsolete but as soon as the panic button is hit drop to their knees in pray. I’m a lot like them, well apart from their being a higher power, what higher power would create such a situation, but converting to optimism seems fitting. As I sit here cracking jokes the floorboards begin to creak. The man in the mask walks down the stairs but doesn’t stop. He grabs the hand cuffs and frees me from the rail, only to be blindfolded and taken upstairs. I get strapped into some sort of chair and out of the darkness;

“Any final words”

“Not even a last meal, talk about hospitality”