The Tortured Soul

A lone man, trapped inside of a building of some sort that he has not stepped foot outside for over a decade. People come and go but he doesn't know what's happening outside of room until one day.


1. The Soul Of The Lonely Man


The clattering of metal chains smashing against each other as I lay in the bed, unable to move my body. I can see a window to my left, all barred up with old rusted metal. The wind is blowing hard into the window at hurricane force speeds, the trees are losing their leaves, branches are falling and birds being unable to fly. All I can do is turn my head one way or the other. I decide to pick the window than looking at the doorway where they are running people up and down the corridor all day and night. I can tell that there is a storm coming but it isn't any normal storm, this seems too surreal to be any normal storm.

Lightning starts to form, and thunder follows up right behind it. It’s it just interesting how the speed of light and sound work? The rattling of rusted wheels is flying up and down the hallway, people yelling and screaming. A head pokes around the corner of my doorway, the face is old, skinny, skin is sagging down and the bone structure of the face could be seen. It was hard to determine if it was a male or female, but the eyes looked as if all the life was sucked out of the person. They showed so much pain and suffering as well as the horror of what was to come by the end of the night. “Kill me” the eyes were screaming; the person was struggling to stand. They sit down on a chair and get wheeled away, the wheels let a high pitch wail as it rolled the person away.

As they get rolled away, all that is left is the wall that was behind them and the doorway they were clinging onto for dear life. As their hands moved away from the doorway, all that was left was a trail of blood the led down that hall as they were taken. The tiled wall behind them was old, cracking and full of mold. The pipes were old and rusted, a foul-looking liquid was flowing from cracks, green mixed with a light brown thick liquid dripped. Its wretched smell could be smelt from a mile away, not even the fly’s wanted to go anywhere near it.

A shade passes past my door, it was dark and see through; I couldn’t make out if it had a face on it or not but it looked as if it was hovering and not touching the ground. It didn’t have any feet, just a black cloak, it slowed down as it went past my door. Shivers went down my spine as it was looking at me and saying that I was next, that I was going to be in the same position as the person that was just at my door. I closed my eyes to try and forget the image that was haunting my mind, but I just couldn’t remove it, it floated there in my mind. I finally removed it from my mind, by the time I did it had started to rain, it was pelting against my window as if small rocks were being flung into my window. Dark clouds covered the building, the only light that could be seen outside was the light from when the lightning would hit the trees. The aroma of fresh rain and petrichor filled the room through tiny gaps that had formed around my windows over the past decades.

I fall asleep to the aroma, forgetting where I am and how long I’ve been trapped in this terrible room. The next day comes, the skies have cleared up, the sun sends rays of light through my barred windows into my room. A small piece of light hits my face, I try to move my head so it leaves but I can’t escape the light. At first, it was fine, it felt nice to have a warm ray of light sit on my face but over time it felt like I was being tortured, a slow and long painful torture. The same person from yesterday came past the doorway again, this time just showing the top of the face. They have lost all of their hair, it wasn’t a nice smooth looking head but it was all wrinkly and full of warts. One had popped while they were looking at me and this white, thick, lumpy puss escapes from the opening that had just been created. The eyes, they looked at me, I could see right through them and tell that the person just wanted their life to end, but it didn’t and it wouldn’t. The shade returns to place the person into the chair again, all I hear is the wail and screeching of wheels, it hurt every time they went past.


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