The Room [New]

My previous story, taken up a notch

“Citizen Newspaper. 1945 December 12th. 15 Die in asylum from torture and human guinea pigs. Closed due to reports of killings made by ‘haunted’ patients.”

I throw the newspaper cut-out over the floor. It skids along the wooden floor, almost making a rattling sound, waking the other boys. My back is aching, probably from sitting on this dumb wooden floor for hours. Rattling across the room, the trees creaking outside in the wind, doors slamming in the other rooms. Is my mind trying to play tricks on me? A pair of eyes is glinting across the room, my body shivering from a slight fright.
Darkness is covering our bodies in the open room, only lit by the dim moonlight shining through the windows. The floor is trying to eat you, my mind is telling me, the pain from the wooden floor, a frank smell coming from them.
Rumours were spread that the school building was an asylum, but few actually heard the story. The unlucky ones who know the story will not close an eye tonight.
“Why do we always need to show our reliability through this crap,” speaking in a slow tone, Tim said with a pinch of fear. It is the second night of our initiation for the new sports group. Tonight is the one night we need to spend in the old building, proving our reliability.

Stop it! I shout to my mind. The images of people being tortured plays off in my mind as I look at the dark room. With a sudden jerk, I move my head to the window. Time slowed down in my mind; I see the air bending around the oxygen particles. A bird scurries off the window frame. Curls of my hair are damp with sweat, almost clinging against my forehead. My heart pumps adrenalin through my whole body, causing my hands to shake a bit. Again the wind is restless outside, howling around the corners.
The building makes my stomach turn around, forcing my insides to places they never should be; it is doubtless from the look of the inside, the old metal beds, the cupboards with no doors, the omniscient look through the enormous windows.
“Are you awake?” Sam whisper to us with his pathetic little voice, traveling almost nowhere in the vast room, reaching us just in time before it fades away. The answer of three others came including mine. Only Peter remains sleeping under 3 duvets. We decide to let him sleep, “I don’t see why we need to wake someone like him,” a voice from the rear saying in a loud whisper.
Why did we get the idea to get up? Why did we ever leave the room, the room where we actually were safe?

I stood up first, feeling a slight hesitation, but ignoring the feeling. I slowly open the door; pushing it through the basin it milled from old age. White splinters fall to the wooden floor, braking off piece by piece while I push the door open.
“S**t,” a couple of gasps come from the back while I open the door. High passage walls made it look daunting. “Is this the right thing to do Andrew,” Tim asks me from behind.
“Yeah,” my answer is cold. NO, no, dear Lord NO! my insides shout to me. I lower my head, and look at my shoes, almost staring at them for help. The door gives a last creak; now it rests on the hinges in the wall. I sigh, and lift my head, facing the window in front of me, on the other side of the passage.
“Walk already now, we ain’t gonna get any taller,” Fred the idiot almost yell at me. My left foot goes first, then my right, and then my left again. The floor is cold under my bare feet, a hardened wood by time, not being easy on it too! Every foot step we take echoes forever in the elongated passage. No one dares to talk; loud breathing the only sound companioned with the footsteps. Every single door had the same paint, the same golden " not gold anymore - handle. Huge wooden windows portrayed the outside crystal clear, a grassy field with black darkness covering it. A moon bright above in the black sky, stars shone. I look to the left side, it is covered with black clouds, and it’s moving quickly to our side. I turn my head straight, walking into the dark-black passage. My insides turn around, facing the other way as they want to head back to the room. I push through, against the pulling back of my guts. The single string of my hair that clings to my forehead is covered by a thin layer of sweat.

We stop, something is not right. “Shhhh,” I whisper, clearly not loud enough, but no one was even talking.
“Aaah!”
“What is that,” I say, below the awful scream that fills the building. I look over to the other guys, fear struck in their eyes. My hands tremble, my eyes look all over the floor, the walls. I can feel the blood pumping in my legs, my hands, and my ears. I bite my lower lip, not hard enough to bleed, but I could feel the pain. My back slides against the hard brick wall as I lower myself, my knees bend. The passage quiet down; the screaming stopped.
Lub dub, lub dub, lub dub…
A low pulse, soft in the vast length of the passage. I turn around, and almost fall on my back from the fright. I give out a high squeak rather than a scream. The wall is pulsating. I stand up, my knees almost giving in from the still-in-my-body shock. I look across the wall where we sit, and startle again.
“Freddie! What the hell, Freddie,” I scream, this time in a lower voice.
“Help please Edward, anyone just help please,” Freddie, looking pale around the cheeks, scream to me. His body is almost half way " from his torso downwards " engulfed into the wall. His eyes are red with pain, turning a pale black. Pain is in his eyes. My body is pumping more adrenalin than before, making my hands tremble, and again, turning my world into a slow-motion scene. He blinks slowly; his blue eyes piercing mine while his body is being sucked into the wall. The lub dub sound is harder than before, more ears piercingly, more into your ears. I walk to his side, not really knowing what to do; I start to pull in his free hand. Consequences are always too late, the wall sucking harder than before.
“Help me guys, please help me,” his eyes fill with tears, rolling down his cheeks, almost burning lines in his face. Red lines form where the tears roll down, it is blood. I wipe his cheeks, trying to make him stop crying. His arms start to hang helpless, losing the life it had before. His eyes also start to black out, his face turns a pale white.
“Come on buddy! Don’t give up man, please don’t give up,” Tim say, tears filling his eyes sockets. I and Tim pull on both his arms, pulling harder than before, the wall sucking harder.

Finally his eyes lose their life; we stop pulling, arms hanging helpless beside his body. We close the blue eyes that stare into nowhere. I want to scream out, scream till my voice can’t take the strain anymore. I hit my fist into the wall of the passage, the pain shooting through my arm. My fist swells up to an uncomfortable size.
The last part of Freddie is drawn in; we just stand and look helpless. Our eyes well up with tears of melancholy, tears of fear, tears of revulsion. We walk back to the room where we came from, the actual safe-haven. I reach the door first, looking at the door handle with utter enmity. My hand moved slowly to the handle, pressing downwards with the little energy left in my body. I pull back to open the door, but it is locked. Who could have locked the door? Why is it locked in the first place? I knock on the door, with the hand I hit against the wall. The pain swell up to a point I cannot help but scream. I hold it between my legs, pressing hard on it to numb the immense pain.
“It’s… Locked,” I say to Tim who stands next to me. He tries to open it as well, but the attempt is otiose. He knocks on the door, nothing.
“Buddies, where are you,” the call come out of the room. It is Peter’s voice. He is awake and in the room. “Help…” a gashing sound directly after the shout. We stand in shock, hearing the sounds of horror behind the door. We stand helpless on the safe side. We stand helpless.

Reviews

[Victoria PoetryBunny]

Well, this is indeed haunting and creepy with suspense. Nice write, you build horror in this.

[Jeremy Haynes]

WOW that's what I have to say. This was great!

[Raya Avans]

I don't even need to make up a conjure up a new review for your writings, I can simply just paste 'impeccable' and that would say it all.. you are such an amazing writer and I love every detail you place ever so masterfully inside of your stories. You place the images straight in my head with ease. :) the diction in your writing is also well done. I am truly inspired by it all and only hope I could be this good! Maybe one day I could buy your books, and trust me I will! Loved this story very much. Once again, i'm looking forward to more of your writing, amazing job! i'm rooting for you and your success as a writer.

(a few simple grammatical errors here and there, not sure if that is important to you at this stage but just putting that out there.)

~ rae