He watched helplessly as a gust of air slammed the door shut behind her and locked with an ominous click. He came to the conclusion, reluctantly, that she had purposely left him here without food or water to spend his final days.
Pounding on the door, he yelled, “Let me out! I’ll never do that to you again!” but his voice fell on deaf ears. She had already gunned her car engines departing from his life with a roar of satisfaction.
He desperately looked around for a tool of any kind to try to pry the thick insect infested boards from the wall but the shack was completely empty, not even a stick of furniture. Since there were no windows, it was dark and foreboding inside. Frantically, he searched his pockets but had apparently dropped his lighter earlier in the day when he was pounding the love of his life’s body, leaving her cowering in a corner planning her revenge.
Little did he know that she had wiped the blood from her face, held up her chin and went off to prepare for his fate.
Later, on the day of her beating, she had sweetly said, “Why don’t we go to my friend’s cottage to have a sexy vacation?” as she tantalized him, putting her scenario into play. Like a puppy following its master, he almost salivated as he agreed to meet her there for their assignation.
The first thing she did was go to the pet store where she bought 10 snakes.
She knew that he was deadly afraid of the hissing serpents. Next, she drove to the cottage and dumped the snakes into the single room before leaving.
He started screaming in horror when the first snake crawled up his legs, twining around his neck. It wouldn’t have mattered if he had known they were non-venomous because he suffered from Ophidiophobia, the fear of snakes.
Ripping the snake off his neck, he crouched in terror hoping the snakes would not find him. By the time she returned hours later, he was shaking so hard that she had to prop him up to drag him to her car. Arriving home at their luxurious mansion, she led him to the guest bedroom where she had arranged to have a hospital bed and several attendants dressed in white uniforms. He never tried to leave this room, spending the rest of his life there, completely out of his mind. Meanwhile, she continued to live in the mansion, drive the luxury cars and spend his money knowing that he would never bother her again. She had him where she wanted him, secure in her knowledge that she would have all the benefits of his wealth but none of the burdens of living with an abusive, cheating, lying man. She no longer had bruises of the body or of the heart. She explained his absence by telling anyone who asked, “He has health problems and is bedridden.”
In her devious way of thinking, he was as good as gone allowing her the freedom to live her life as she so desired.
Out of luck
He watched, helpless, as the door closed behind her. The foul odor that took him back to long drives with dad. "Do you want anything from inside, son? We have a long ride ahead." He never wanted anything, except now he did want to get up and leave. Too bad both his knees where shattered, no escape this day. "Is it hot in here, or what?" Soon he would be with his dad forever.
Bloodied Converse
He watched, helpless, as the door closed behind her.
"Oh my god," Catherine said aloud, as the realization came to her. She had just closed the door on Jacob. But it would be understandable, right? Everyone would understand why she had had to do it. Of course they would, once they heard her story. They'd know that it would've been pointless to help Jacob. They had already gotten him and if she'd tried to help she would've died too. Yes, they'd understand.
But first, she just had to get the hell out of this god forsaken place.
She glanced down and shuddered as blood began seeping through the crack under the door, forming a pool around her Converse.
She didn't have long.
Catherine bounded away from the locked door and tore through the hallways of the abandoned asylum. Rusted signs hung from the ceiling directing to various wards, and a fine layer of dust coated everything else. The scent of mildew and old wood flooded her nostrils as she ran. Where she was going, she had no idea, but she hoped it was out.
The sound of the door getting ripped off its hinges and tossed away echoed through the labyrinth of hallways, urging Catherine to run faster. Her breathing became labored from both fear and exertion as she dashed through the halls. Suddenly, Catherine stopped and, looking around, found herself at the central staircase. The building was old enough to not have an elevator shaft and had relied on it for access between floors.
She looked down the steps and decided that she was on about the fourth floor. At the bottom, all she had to do was make a right and she'd reach her exit and safety. Wasting no time, she started her decent, taking two steps at a time in her desperation. At the second floor, she heard them.
They slid down the stairs after her with a gross wet sound but she refused to look back. She was too close to making it out and she would be damned if they got her.
Schlick schlick schlick they went, and that's when she tripped. Catherine was only at the second floor, but the steps were made of wood. For the first few steps she was sure she was fine, but then she fell on her arm with a crack. She called out but was cut short as she smacked her head.
Then everything went black.
Cuffed
He watched, helpless as the door closed behind her. He screamed in frustration and started rattling the handcuffs again. Desperately trying to get loose from the railings he was cuffed too. Tears of frustration rolled down his cheeks. He didn’t understand how he got himself in this mess. He’d only gone out for a quite pint of milk from the corner shop.
He lets out another scream of frustration and then curls up on himself as his head sears with pain. The last thing he remembered was climbing the stairs to his flat in the pitch black and had been mumbling to himself that the light in the hallway had gone out again. He’d gone to take his keys out to get back into the flat and the next thing he knows, he’s woken up chained to a radiator, in a room with no windows and only one door, which was locked behind the woman that just walked out.
Screaming and crying and desperately trying to free himself from his bindings had exhausted him. He closed his eyes but was too scared to sleep. He knew the woman who’d just brought him a drink wasn’t the one who chained up here, she wasn’t big enough, strong enough and she looked like she had no life left in her. Someone else had to have gotten him down here. He tried to open his eyes but they felt too heavy, he tried to move his arms, legs, to writhe against the handcuffs, but he couldn’t. He was slipping into a sleep he didn’t want, he realised that the taste he thought must have been from a dirty tap must have been something make him sleep. As he finally drifted into what he hoped would be a dreamless state, he thought he heard faint whispers of malicious laughter and smell of rotting garbage.
13 Creature Lane
He watched, helpless, as the door closed behind her.
___________
May 5, 1988
"Allison, come on! It'll be fun!"
"No, Kyle! I really don't want to do it! It's not safe!"
"Allison! Don't be such a killjoy! Let's have an adventure!"
"Ugh...fine! Okay, fine! I'll come with you!'"
____________
September 3, 1987
"Welcome to senior year Biology! I'm Mr. Blanck. We actually have a new student joining us this year! Class, this is Allison Crane. Everyone, say hi."
"Hi, Allison!"
"Allison, introduce yourself."
"Hi, everyone! I'm Allison, obviously. Haha. Um, okay. I'm from California, um... I'm super excited to be here, I love this town already! Um, I like swimming and painting. Um, I think that's it, yeah."
"Go sit next to... Kyle Danover. Kyle, raise your hand. There."
_____________
May 21, 1988
Psychological Report for Kyle Danover
Psychiatrist: James Hooper
Age of patient: 17
Kyle is mostly unresponsive. Very quiet. Terrible nightmares. Extremely traumatized. I doubt that he will ever fully recover from this. Increase quantity of pills?
______________
September 10, 1987
"So, Allison. Um, do you want to hang out after school?"
"Sure, I'd love to!"
"Meet you at my house?"
"Cool!"
_______________
This Weird House
The Condemned House on 13 Creature Lane 124th Issue, May 1, 1988
13 Creature Lane, the only house still left standing in the old section of town, was abandoned 10 years ago after resident Jane Lindsay appeared dead in it. The courts ruled that her husband, Alfred Lindsay, was the murderer, but he denied it, saying that "a monstrous wolf hybrid" mauled his wife to death. Our journalists were unable to get into the house, but report that the house seemed to be falling apart. It is in very bad shape, and we advise that all people should stay away from it.
_______________
January 17, 1988
"Allison, what's your favorite thing to paint?"
"Oh, I don't know, Kyle! There are so many beautiful things out there!"
"Isn't there one thing that just makes you so happy to paint? Come on Allison, you can tell me!"
"Well, I love sunsets. The colors are just so beautiful. I don't think I'm good enough to recreate them perfectly."
"Allison, you're the best artist I've ever met!"
"Oh Kyle, that's sweet!"
______________
The School News - Go Flying Beavers!
By Kyle Danover The April 1988 Issue
Congratulations to Allison Crane, who placed first in the county-wide art show! Her painting, Sunset, captivated the judges! Good luck to Allison in the state-wide art show in June!
________________
December 16, 1989
Psychological Report for Kyle Danover
Psychologist: James Hooper
Age of patient: 19
Kyle has shown little improvement. Has a few moments of clarity, but still has nightmares and is mostly unresponsive. If Allison is mentioned, will either go into a catatonic state or become extremely violent. More pills?
________________
May 5, 1988
"Oh my gosh! This is a bad idea, Kyle!"
"Come on, we're already here!"
"I read about 13 Creature Lane! Somebody died here!
"Are you scared, Allison?"
"Maybe I am, okay? The house looks like it'll fall apart. And there are rumors of a weird animal here! Can we just go?"
"Let's go up the steps!"
"Kyle, come back! Those don't look safe...Kyle! I'm coming!"
"Let's go in!"
"No! Don't - aaah! You broke the door! Why are you such an idiot- No COME BACK! Get out of there! Ugh, Kyle!"
"Allison, this place is crazy cool! Look at that!"
"Okay, alright, that's a cool chair. Now can we leave. Ugh, and he's going down into the...basement? Kyle!"
_________________
April 30, 1988
"So, have you decided about college?"
"No, Allie, I haven't! You're going to that really cool art academy, and I only got an offer from that one place that I don't like!"
"Kyle! First, don't call me Allie! And second, that's a beautiful school! And the journalism program, which, let me remind you, you got accepted to, is great! I think you should go!"
"Really? I mean, I really do want to do journalism..."
"Definitely do it!"
"Thanks, Allie! You're a great friend!"
"It's Allison, and you're welcome!"
___________________
May 5, 1988
"I hate this place, Kyle! We have to leave!"
"This is a pretty cool basement, Allison! Seriously! And there's a door that leads to outside, I guess. Oh look! A pile of... bones?"
"Ew! Gross! We need to get out of here!"
"No, come on! Weird, those look like human bones!"
"Oh my God! Oh my God!"
"What?"
"R-r-run! It's the wolf from the magazine! AAAAAAAH"
"AAAAH! Come on, run!"
"Get the door! The door! Ow!"
"Allie, get up! Hurry! It's coming closer!"
"Run away! RUN KYLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"ALLISON!!!! NOOOOOO!!!!!"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH"
_____________________
May 5, 1988
He watched, helpless, as the door closed behind her.
____________________
May 7, 1988
Sad News for Our Community
Allison Crane died on May 5th after entering the 13 Creature Lane House with Kyle Danover. Crane was mauled to death by a gigantic wolf creature, while Danover was able to escape. He is currently in the nearest hospital recovering from trauma. He may be transferred to a mental institution if further treatment is required.
______________________
August 19, 2000
Psychological Report for Kyle Danover
Psychologist: Elena Kastner
Age of patient: 30
Kyle is more responsive, but still gets horrible nightmares. Must be watched very vigilantly, can become easily violent. I asked him about Allison today. He just stared at me blankly. Improvement? It was his 30th birthday today, and it doesn't look like Kyle will ever celebrate his birthday anywhere but the mental institution.
____________________
January 13, 2015
they think I don't understand they think I'm a complete idiot but I'm not I know what's happening they think this will help me they think writing will help me I wish it would, Allison please know that I miss you you were my best friend i'm so so so sorry so sorry please forgive me so sorry best friend i think something's wrong in my mind i don't understand they may be right please help me Allison please so sorry best friend my fault should have listened so sorry my fault
___________________
May 4, 2015
Psychological Report for Kyle Danover
Psychologist: Gwen Opagnia
Age of patient: 45
Kyle held a normal, coherent conversation with me today! No violence for the past few weeks! This is real progress! I'm excited about this! He uses his journal every day, I think it's really been helping him!
_____________________
May 5, 2015
it's the anniversary of your death i don't know which one but they told me it was so i'm feeling sad but i think i know what to do to fix it Allison i'm so sorry it was my fault but i can fix it im so sorry my fault
______________________
May 6, 2015
Coroner's Report
Patient's Name: Kyle Danover
Age: 45
Time of Death: 11:25 pm, May 6, 2015
Cause of Death: Repeated stabbing with a nail
Notes: All evidence points to patient pulling out a loose nail from his bed and repeatedly stabbing himself with it.
____________________
Just A Dog..
He Watched, Helpless, as the door closed behind her. Every dog has his day is what they say. Never did he think his day would come so soon , he always overlooked their open wounds. Wounds caused by him of course because only sign he knew of love was emotional damage. Those scars and bruises on the outside may have healed for good but he never understood, how deep they've reached inside the beautiful souls of the shaken.
Days have gone by now and he is still left alone in a cold dark room that is nothing like his own. He hears a voice whisper that says "it'll be fine, I'm just a dog with a bone" words he use to speak when he told them to leave him alone..
She opens the door, yells "If you can find the chain, pull it to see what happens" slams it back shut.
Anxiously he feels around the cold floor for the chain. His lack of light to see, nearly drives him insane. "HERE IT IS" he screams as he pulls....POW! Guess It's true what they say and today was his day..
Unrequited Love
He watched, helpless, as the door closed behind her. Marc's head spun and there was a weird fuzzy taste in his mouth. He glanced around at his surroundings trying to get his bearings. Faintly, he heard the clip clop of high heels receding down the hall. Than he glanced to the corner of the windowless room where there was two things. A cot and a bucket. Why would there be a bucket...? Oh. Marc sat dejectedly on the cot and glared at the bucket. Suddenly the room went out of focus and the fuzzy feeling in Marc's mouth intensified. He laid down on the cot and thought about the event that had led him here.
—————————
11:34 p.m.
The party was awful. Loud music, drunk people, high people, crying people, people making out, you name it. It really wasn't Marc's scene. Being a major introvert he would rather be home reading a mystery book. However his "friend" Brad had dragged him out here tonight. Now Brad was nowhere to be seen. Life was great. Than from the corner of his eye Marc saw Maureen Edmonds, the girl of his dreams. Her long blonde hair hung down her back tonight and her warm blue eyes shone. He was in love. Than Maureen turned and gestured him to her. Marc's mind gave a mental shout for joy as his feet flew towards Maureen.
The party had been amazing after that. Lies. The party was still awful but talking to Maureen wasn't. After a few beers to many he had acted a little foolishly. For instance he had called her honey. That was a little mortifying but Maureen didn't seem to bat an eye at Marc's verbal blunder. Soon after Maureen invited him back to her house. Being a just a little drunk it took Marc a second to figure out what she was implying, and than it hit him like a ton of bricks. He couldn't say yes enthusiastically enough. Than they were leaving the party and walking back to Maureen's house. It was only three blocks away. The outside of her house was neat and well groomed and the inside was the same way though everything seemed to lack a personal touch.
They sat down for a few minutes in the kitchen were Maureen gave Marc a water. The water tasted a little funny but it was appreciated after drinking all those beers. Than she led Marc to a door that he supposed would be her bedroom. Instead the door opened to reveal a staircase leading to a basement. Without hesitation Maureen proceeded to climb down and Marc followed not knowing what else to do. Than he had been led into a small room and had turned in time to see Maureen slipping out and locking the door behind her.
—————————
Present
The slick of a lock being turned and the sound of a door opening jarred Marc from his thoughts. There in the doorway was Maureen. However, she looked different. Maureen's blue eyes had now gone frozen and her once sweet smile had a malicious twist to it. If that wasn't bad enough, she was holding a long knife with a rough edge. Marc scooched back until his back hit the wall. As she approached him Marc tried to stand, but found that he couldn't seem to control his legs. Maureen loomed over him and her face made his blood run cold. "Nighty night, honey," she hissed and brought the knife down.