The Chair

A Story by Kelly

He is in a dark, damp, mold covered hallway. He has no way of knowing where he is or how he got there. He stands to his feet and feels dizzy; he looks around at his surroundings. The walls were an ugly tan color. The lighting was dull. He starts to walk for what seems like hours until he sees a door in the wall. He looks at it. The door is numbered 49. He tries the door to find it locked. He pushes on it and it is so moldy and old it just breaks in.
The man’s name is Chris. He is 35 years old and works at a factory making shoes for a living. He is no different than any other man. He is not special, he is not abnormal. These events were not avoidable in any way at all. This is just how it happened.
Sitting in the middle of what appears to be some kind of classroom is a man tied to a chair. The man looks like he just experienced hell first hand. His head is hanging low and the chains are so tight on him it is clearly cutting into his arms. Chris walked toward the man exactly three steps and stopped. The man in the chair didn’t seem to be aware that Chris was even there. Chris could hear that the man was speaking to God, but instead of praying this man was cursing.
The man in the chair is named Richard. He, like Chris, didn’t do anything to deserve or cause these events. Unlike Chris, Rick has been at this unholy abomination of a place for almost four days. He has a family and two children. But Rick isn’t thinking about them. Right now he has chains coming out of every pore in his body.
Looking at this happen from any direction just wouldn’t make any sense. Basically in less than a millisecond every part of Rick became a mess of chains bursting forth from inside of him at about 70 miles per hour in every direction. Rick had felt more pain and suffering in the last three and a half days than most men feel in a life time. Unfortunately for Rick this death wasn’t instant. He could feel the chains bursting out of him, to him this took hours. For Rick these chains pushing out of his weak skin was an eternity of pain that cannot be described.
Chris is now insane. Chris just stared as the chains came straight at him and into his body. There was no pain; there were no openings made in Chris’s soft flesh. It just happened. In a flash it was over. Chris was left standing in the room looking at a bloody, skinned corpse fall to the ground. He just stood there wondering if any of it was real when two chains burst out of his back and dragged him to the chair and wrapped around him tying him to it. They tied him so tight that the chain cut into his flesh. He began to scream that he could feel them moving inside of him.
Then blackness came, sweet unfeeling darkness. Chris had passed out. It is strange he didn’t have any nightmares considering the horror he had just experienced. Maybe his body had seen enough horror to not feel the need to make up for it while it rested. Chris woke up to find himself still in a considerable amount of pain. The chains were moving all around inside of his body, over and around his organs. Suddenly he realized that the door was back up and the body on the floor was gone.
After a while he actually began to get used to the pain and began looking around at his surroundings. To his right was a chalk board. In front of him was the door and to his left were several rows of desks. It appeared to be the classroom of a very young class, first or second grade.
When Chris would sleep, or pass out, the room would always seem different when he woke up. Sometimes Chris could hardly tell the differences, other times it was so obvious that he would start screaming as soon as he woke up. One time the room mirrored itself, the desks were on his right and the board on his left. Even the posters on the walls now had backwards writing.
Chris fell asleep, his head hung down. When Chris awoke and looked up he saw a young girl sitting with her legs folded. She was smiling big. He asked her what was happening to him. To this she merely smiled and stared at him. Chris suddenly realized something that was somehow more horrible than what he had already experienced. Chris looked at her and spoke “You…You’re the cause of this aren’t you!?” The girl nodded and smiled larger than a natural human should be able to smile.
The tiny girl stood up and stumbled towards him. She left footprints of blood and when she ran her fingers over his face there was a smear of the same. He began to cry. The girl leaned uncomfortably close to Chris and whispered softly “Shhhh…don’t cry sweet toy.” She ran her tongue up his cheek licking up his tears. To Chris the realization that he is merely a toy to a sadistic adolescent made him tremble. To the girl he is like an insect under a magnifying glass on a scorching summer day.
Chris was suddenly overcome with fear and panic. He began to kick wildly spewing obscenities and cursing the small girl. The chair broke surprisingly easily and the chains let him go. Chris stood up, he was scared. Chris knew that he had no chance, that the girl could kill him in a second if she desired too. Chris dropped to his knees, he looked up at her. Chris thought about begging, about crying and screaming.
He opened his mouth to speak.
“F**k you.”
The girl stared at him and made a pouty face. She said that he was no fun. Chris smiled as his heart was crushed by the chains.