As a small treat I have decided to put in a story that I wrote my junior year of high school. Hope you like it. And with this one you really need to watch your step.
“How shall I end your life?” asked a deep, mysterious voice over an intercom, “I have an interest in the human anatomy. You see, I took it once in high school. I got a fairly good grade in it so I’m pretty sure I know what I would be doing.”
“What do you want?” A frightened girl shouted. Still half drugged she couldn’t figure out where she was. All she could remember was that she was attacked while walking to her dorm from a late class.
She was a narrow figured, mid-twenties college girl. She had short brown hair and cat-like green eyes. She was going to graduate next month. Her parents were very proud and some had claimed that she was the epitome of success.
“Simple pleasures.” A concise answer but one she didn’t like.
“You pervert…Why would you do this?” Now sobbing she sank down into a dark corner of the strange room. She crossed her arms, rested them on her knees, and buried her head in her arms.
There was one light hanging from the ceiling on a cord with a pull string to turn it off and on. The room had dark green walls and a dusty hardwood floor that looked like it had been there for years. There was a door, but it was locked. It was solid oak and very heavy.
“That’s not what I meant… Mallory. See, I have nothing but hatered when it comes to people like you. I am very meticulous. I watch you from the heights of this building.” The incisive voice slowly became more irritated. “How is it that someone like you can just waltz through life without a care in the world? While the rest of us scrape the bottom of the plate for tiny scraps that you leave behind. Huh? …what makes you so special? What makes you worthy to live?” The voice calmed back down. “I’m gonna give you one chance to get back to your life and leave this place forever.”
“What’s the catch?” Mallory stood up and looked around; carefully scanning the room she looked for the source of the voice. She listened carefully.
“You have to survive. Open one wrong door, or turning one wrong key could spell disaster. Then I will have my chance to excise those organs I find appetizing.” An evil snicker came from the voice. “You can start now.”
The door lock clicked like it was on voice activation. Mallory slowly opened the door. The halls were old and dusty. The elegant gold light fixtures and beautiful pictures on the walls were hidden by the massive amounts of dust and spider webs. The hallway lights were dim, but they showed enough light to see the length of the hall. She could see a door down the hall to the right that was open and a turn in the hallway to her left. She crept out onto the carpeted floor and approached the table. Something on the table had caught her eye. There was an eerie silence throughout the building.
On the table was a full pill bottle with a written prescription beneath it. She read it out loud, “Olanzapine,” after thinking for a second she came to the conclusion, “He’s schizophrenic.”
“Well done.” the voice echoed through the hall. “But as you can see I didn’t take any of the pills. I’m not schizophrenic. I just have a stronger side that speaks to me and helps me teach those like you a lesson.”
Mallory, hoping to appeal to the voice, yelled back, “You need help, and I can help you. I’m a psychology maj…”
“I know what you are, you are the reason I am doing this” said the voice infringing on her sentence.
She quickly glanced back at the prescription. It was her handwriting. “Carl… is that you?” she asked quivering. Remembering her internship at the Cambridge Psychiatric Hospital; Carl was one of her hardest patients. He was stubborn and in complete denial about his condition.
“You guessed it.” he replied with a game show announcer-like voice. “You gave me those pills and said I was crazy.”
“I only said it would be best to have someone else help watch you when you start the medication, and that we provide those facilities since you had nowhere to go.”
“What is that facility called?” the voice irritatedly asked.
“The Cambridge Psychiatric Hospital” she replied.
“Exactly! The nut house. Where crazy people go.”
“I never said you were crazy”
“You might as well have… Oh, and god luck getting out” He chuckled.
The door at the end of the hall, which had been open a moment ago, started to close. She made a mad dash toward the door. Sprinting toward the door, she made every effort to get there before it shut. Then a terrible feeling shot through her gut as the carpet shifted beneath her feet. Suddenly she found herself falling. It was a trap! The floor had been cut out beneath the carpet. Her breath was taken away as she fell through the floor like a rag doll. At the end of her fall was a fate she could not see or imagine.
She landed. Giant metal spikes drove through her body like a pin cushion. Death overcame her as every ounce of her blood ran down the spikes to the floor. An evil laugh rang through the halls of the vacant building.
Carl pre-heated his oven to 450°. “Just enough to cook out any viruses or bacteria she may harbor. “Mmm Mmm,” He said to himself. Pleased, he returned to his desk from which he was sitting. As he turned the pages in a med school roster to psychiatry majors he scratched off Mallory’s name from the list and turned to his computer to find information on the next person on the list.