Fiction Fragment Friday

I really like this story. I don’t know where the inspiration for this one came from, but it hit and I just had to write it all out. It flowed easily once I started.

     “It’s time,” the nameless robed man said as he opened my door.  I’m sure he actually did have a name, but I didn’t know it.  I had come to recognize this one’s voice from the others.  He came to see me often enough that I had given him a nickname.  Generic Cultist number thirty-seven.  I had not in fact identified thirty-six other cultists prior.  Nor did I actually know if there were more than three cultists because I had never seen more than three together at one time.  I just liked the number. 

     “Time for what?  Oh, is it ice cream time?  I haven’t had ice cream since before you two-bit horror movie rejects shoved a bag over my head and kidnapped me.  How long ago was that by the way?”

     “Six hundred and sixty-six days ago,” generic cultists number thirty-seven said without any emotion leaking into his words.  No matter how much I taunted this one I just could not get a rise out of him.  It was long past frustrating.  It didn’t matter what I said this one was always stoic.  It felt like he had been assigned to me because after a while he would be the only one, they would send in to interact with me.  I really hoped I hadn’t earned him a promotion.

     “Well, that’s not ominous or anything.”   I tried to keep my nervousness out of my voice.  I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of knowing that I was actually terrified out of my mind.  I had apparently been here for two years without any interaction with a person not wearing one of these robes.  No one had come to rescue me and it didn’t look like anyone ever would.  Somehow, I had held onto my sanity, though it might be argued I didn’t really have any to begin with.

     Number thirty-seven grabbed me by my upper arm and squeezing hard enough that I winced in pain.  My hands were already bound in front of me as a couple of his identical twins had come in earlier and taken care of that.  I stumbled a bit as he lead me through the winding corridors.  It was all stonework with actual torches in sconces on the wall.  Not even gas lanterns, but actual cloth wrapped torches.  I couldn’t even imagine the upkeep on that or why anyone would go to that degree of trouble.  Everything about this group screamed bad horror movie. 

     We came out into a large chamber.  There was a carved Pentagram in the floor with candles at the points and a raised stone altar in the middle.  Standing there next to the altar in much more ornate robes with the hood pulled back was someone I recognized.  “Janet?  What the hell are you wearing?”

     My ex-girlfriend was smiling at me.  “Hello Jeremy.  I trust your accommodation have been adequate.”  My eyes went to the very ornate dagger she was holding.  It had jewels on the handle and symbols carved into the blade. 

     “I’m stayed in worse.  I mean I did stay over at your apartment a few times.  Now that was a dump.” 

     I could see the anger on her face.  “Does everything always have to be a joke to you?” She stomped her feet in exasperation which kind of undermined the creepy vibe she was going for.  She looked to thirty-seven.  “Put him on the altar.  Let’s see him joke as I carve him open and bleed him for our master.”  Not going to lie that brought back the creepy vibe.  I struggled, but thirty-seven was much stronger than me and had no problem tossing me onto the altar and tying me down with my hands up over my head. 

     “You know you are giving a whole new definition to the phrase crazy ex-girlfriend.”  I tried to keep my voice light, but at this point I was truly terrified.  I watched as four more robed figures came out of the shadows of the chamber.  Each of them including thirty-seven took up a spot on a corner of the pentagram and picked up the candle.   They were chanting in a language I didn’t recognize.  Finally in unison they all pulled back their hoods to reveal pointed ears, red skin, and yellow eyes.  It was either the best cosplay I had ever seen, or they were not human.  The bruise on my arm supported the not human theory. 

     Janet stood over me chanting herself.  She picked up a chalice and dipped her fingers in it.  They came out dripping blood and she flecked it over my body.  I struggled against my bonds trying to pry them loose.  I could feel them start to give way but didn’t know if I had enough time.  Janet sat down the chalice and lifted the knife over her head.  As she brought the knife down my bonds finally gave way and I reached up catching her wrist.  The cultists did not move from their spots or stop chanting.

     “NO, you always ruin everything.  Not this time though.  I won’t let you ruin this for me too.”  She was frustrated by I was much stronger.  I bent her arms back towards her thinking she would quit trying to push forward.  She didn’t realize what I had done in time though and plunged the knife into her own stomach.  She screamed in pain and fell on top of me.  I could see a large black vortex forming above us.  “Why couldn’t you just die?” she whispered as she bled out. 

     I felt a weight come over me.  It felt like I was moving through water.  The pressure became so bad that I collapsed back onto the altar with Janet’s now dead body covering me with her blood.  My eyes stared into the abyss above me and I had the distinct feeling that something was looking back.  That is the last thing I remember.  I woke up at some point later on the altar.  The cultists had been ripped apart leaving me alone in the room.  It was the most horrific thing I had ever seen. 

                That was three weeks ago.  I’ve settled back into a new life.  As it turns out there was a treasure room in the catacombs, they kept me in.  I still need a new job to explain my income, but in reality, I never need to work again.  For some reason I decided not to call the police and report what had happened.  I knew I couldn’t really explain Janet’s death or any of what happened.  There has not been a night since that then that wasn’t filled with nightmares.  The scariest part though is that sometimes when I’m awake I hear a voice in my head that does not sound like my own.  It tells me to do horrible things and the more it talks the more it sounds reasonable.