Horror Fan Fiction / Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ A Miserable Life in 5's ❯ All That There Is ( Chapter 1 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

A Miserable Life in 5

5 min

You wake up, tired, nauseous and bound. Everything is dark and you realize that you are not where you were a few minutes ago. Or was it hours? You're not sure but you know you weren't hungry like you are now. However that overbearing odor is quickly changing that feeling. As your eyes adjust to the darkness, you see that you're in some type of warehouse or maybe a garage. Judging by the number of tools around you, it's…

Hey, a light, and then… a silhouette… maybe it's an angel come to save you or a demon to tear you apart.

**************

5 hours

Before, you were tired and nauseous, but now you are just in pain. This guy has been going at it for hours, hacking and hammering away at you like a piece of meat. You wonder how someone can do this for a living, seeing as how that guy is showing excitement and no signs of stopping. Only brief reprieves while he chooses his next instrument. Sometimes they are as small as a box cutter, others are as big as a sledgehammer. You don't really know any more. All you remember is the pain. It's all you have left after all.

*scraping*

Here we go, hold on tight. Close your eyes and you'll be alright…or not.

**************

5 days

There, are some absolute truths you have come to realize during your stay.

One: Humans really can do what they put their minds to.

A realization evident in the fact that there are only a few people left alive in this room. Or maybe it's just you now. The fact that different people have come by each day to deposit their “goods” or display their “talents” doesn't make it any better. All it shows is that true evil exists in the world and you were unfortunate enough to meet it face to faces.

Two… you never make it to two because your too busy watching someone walk in; a young girl, foreign, about 17, and holding a gun. You instantly know she's like the rest, the one's who appear and disappear and only leave misery in their wake. Her hands hold the gun unsteadily, but there is determination in her eyes, determination to show you what she can do. You wonder if someone dropped her off here, to use you all as a live shooting range. One that praises good technique with specific sounds of pain when specific areas are hit. You wish her good luck trying to find anyone else here alive, besides you, to tell her she did right. As long as it's not you… you could care less anymore.

A bang, a groan and a bloody cough. Found one.