The Room

A short story by William Spencer

Originally written in 2014 for a “creative writing” class project.

The room. It’s the only thing that Joe’s friends ever talked about. What happens in the room? Anyone who escapes it is too traumatized to explain his or her experience. All that one has to do is to enter the room and attempt to reach the other side and exit the room. Now some people believe that the room is possessed by demons straight from hell, which is possibly the reason why the survivors are too traumatized to talk about it. They end up in a mental hospital. Very few are able to go back to how they used to be. Joe was next in line. He cautiously made his way to the door.

Every man and woman between the ages of 18 and 25 have to go through this test of entering the same room and attempt to make it out alive. Society needs more courageous civilians and the sooner they start being tougher psychologically, the better. War in this time period is long over, however, danger still lurks, so it’s better for people to start learning to not let fear run their lives. However, the government failed to focus on the long term psychological effects the room would have on its survivors. Unfortunately, the government still doesn’t care, so they keep sending in more victims for as long as they please.

Before grabbing the doorknob he tuned in, trying to notice if he could hear anything from inside. Nothing. With great hesitation he grabs the knob and slowly turns it to the left, and the old wooden door creeks open. He steps over the threshold, and without warning the door slams shut behind him. His left foot was still moving over the threshold and as the door slammed shut, it pushed Joe into the darkness. After managing to catch himself from falling to the floor, he starts to slowly make his way, further into the room. There was only one light, and it was coming from the red EXIT sign above the door, across the room.

The red light of the EXIT sign letters was the first to haunt him. Forget about what could be lurking in the darkness to kill me he thought. That internal sign will haunt me for the rest of my days here on this forsaken planet. Joe stops dead in his tracks, his ears catching the disturbing sound of a rolling object being moved across the floor behind him, sending chills up his spine. The object moving across the floor caused Joe to realize that the floor of the room was made of some kind of wood, as the wood creaked. What followed, combined with the dark room and him being alone, the sound of which he would never want to hear again if he would make it out alive.

Joe began to shake with fear as he heard a little girl giggling behind him, and the sound kept moving around him for a good minute, then she began to talk.

“He’s watching you…every move you make counts” she explained in a whisper. Then he felt the sensation of her poking him as she repeated, “He’s watching every move” followed the giggling and the object being moved again.

All these sounds forced him to start running, and as he ran the giggling got louder and louder. His legs cannot keep up and he slows down. He comes to a stop, catching his breath bending down, with both hands grabbing his knees. The lights from the EXIT sign was bright and close enough to reveal the old maple wooden floor, and just as quickly as it happened, he saw the two feet of a little girl step into the light in front of him. He can’t move. He’s too scared to lift his head up to stare at the girl. But he does anyway. Her eyes were as red as blood, and she is holding onto a teddy bear that has one eye, missing its right arm, and was covered in human blood.

Joe’s eyes widen in complete terror and tries to scream, but his vocal chords fail him. The little girl delivers a smirking smile while keeping her focus on Joe’s terrified person, as he is too petrified to move. Just as he thought he couldn’t find the strength to move, the motion of the little girl taking one step forward set off a trigger in his brain: run. With that little motion Joe starts up a run again, dodging the little girl on her right, not thinking twice on looking back.

The EXIT sign gets closer and closer into his view. He can feel that he is going to make it out alive. Then out of nowhere, “Cut! Cut!”

The entire room lights up with hundreds of fluorescent lights above the set. Director Alex Froster stands up from his director’s chair while clapping his hands.

“That was perfect, Colin! And you too, Gabriella! I got chills running down my spine! This is going to be the best horror film I have ever created! Let’s do one more take to make sure the magic is still there!” he finished as he began to sit back down.

“Hey, when is that guy going to come and try to kill me with the machete?” Colin said, pointing to a tall, skinny man with blue jeans and a worn out white t-shirt, while gripping a machete with what looks like dry blood all over the blade.

Froster looks in Colin’s direction and said, “No one is here to kill your character, Colin”.

The whole cast and crew looked puzzled, as none of them knew the man or why he was there. Without warning, the man sprints over and slices Froster’s neck open, and all his blood spills on the camera monitors.