***Note From Mr MacDougall***
This creative writing is for a young adult audience and includes mature themes and horror.

“The Room” by Heather McGinley

This was my higher English portfolio that got full marks in the exam, enjoy 🙂

The muffled screeching of metal filled my ears, I couldn’t see, darkness enveloped my senses as I was dragged along the… hallway? I had no way of knowing. I couldn’t remember, could barely hear and there was a throbbing pain in my head which was scattering my thoughts like a jigsaw puzzle that had been carelessly tossed on the floor. I felt the rough sensation of scratchy material covering my face, leaving me completely vulnerable. Suddenly, I felt myself being forced down onto a metal chair, my limbs swiftly restrained behind me.

The scratchy burlap sack was yanked from my head, leaving me dazed and confused, the blinding lights completely overwhelming my senses, rendering me almost blind for a few moments, I tried to speak but my voice caught in my unnaturally dry throat. My eyes felt like they were working overtime to adjust to the impossibly bright lights shining down on me. I felt exposed and weak, something I was certainly not used to, when a smooth voice penetrated my thoughts.

“You’re Carlos Anderson, right?”

Sounding more like a statement than a question

I tensed; how did he know my name? My eyes eventually adjusted enough to the lights to take in my surroundings. White walls surrounded me like a cage with overhead lights beaming on me like stage lights, I glared at the man in front of me in an attempt to appear more intimidating, although, it was hard with how exposed I really felt, Taking in his slicked back hair, hard gaze, slender frame and his black mas. He stood; hands clasped behind his back. I cleared my throat as best I could despite the unnerving lack of saliva in my mouth.

“What’s it to you?”

His gaze was piercing straight through to my soul, well, my wife always spouts some nonsense how the “eyes are the windows to the soul”, I tell her she needs to stop reading that bull, but why should she listen to me, right? It felt unnerving, as if you’re a child lost in a shop, realising too late that you’ve mistaken the wrong woman as your mother. Frozen. Not as if I could move even if I wanted to, however I knew deep inside me, that gaze would keep me locked to my seat no matter if I was restrained. I was quickly lured back from my thoughts by that oddly soothing voice that simultaneously made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

“Ah, good. You certainly made it quite the challenge to locate you. How are you feeling?

Hopefully not too much discomfort from the retrieval”

Locate me? What does he mean? Despite my disorientation, I stared right back into those

beady brown eyes

“You gonna tell me what the hell you’re blabberin’ on about?”

“Now, Mr Anderson, there’s no need for the aggression.”

“Aggression?”

I spat, the muscles in my shoulders tensing as I attempted to resist against the blood flow restricting restraints

“Listen here you prick. You’re going to tell me why I’m here, or I swear to God-”

I bristled as he let out an amused huff. I wanted to wipe whatever smile he had on under

that mask. I could feel that oh so familiar adrenaline building up inside me, like my first fist fight in middle school, or when I fought-

“I suppose I should explain to you why exactly we felt it necessary to bring you to our establishment here.”

My eyebrows raised at this, so he was willing to tell me why I’d been dragged out to this creepy old building that looked straight out of a horror movie.

“Yeah, I think you should. Pal.”

He sucked in a breath, shifting his weight on his feet, this was the first crack I had seen in that calm, professional demeanour he had been clinging to since I got strapped to this painfully uncomfortable chair. It was unsettling, as if I wasn’t on edge enough already.

“We have some concerns we care to address about a .. Mrs- Valerie-”

He didn’t even have time to fully bring out his clipboard before I shot up, that’s my wife! What did this scum have to do with my Valerie? If he even dares to think of laying his filthy hands on her, I don’t think I’ll be able to hold myself back.

I watched him startle at my outburst, his shoulders flinching back ever so slightly. Then watched him open the seemingly camouflaged door that blended too well with the pristine white walls, before wheeling in a 14-inch Panasonic television on a rattling trolly that looked like it had seen better days.

“Now, Mr Andreson, what I show you here is of a highly disturbing nature, please try to remain calm”

I tensed even further, disturbing, my Valerie? What the hell was this bastard about to show me?

“If I find out you even grazed a finger on my wife, you better begin praying that you’ve been well behaved enough for Heaven”

The TV flickered to life to the colourless recording from a security camera. The image of a street stood still for a few agonizing moments before a person- my wife! – came into frame, absentmindedly humming a tune. After a moment, another woman appeared, they stood near each other for a few moments, time seeming to stand still, nothing happening. I cocked an eyebrow going to make a snide remark, yet halted, as the unknown woman inched towards my wife, movements janky and uncoordinated like she was on substances, when suddenly, she lunged for my wife, slamming her to the ground with strength that didn’t seem to match her frame. A loud crack echoing as they hit the concrete street. I watched with morbid fascination as the womans body convulsed, her skin seeming to peel around her fingers and face, blood beginning to trickle down her body in streams, the white of her shirt turning darker, my wife screaming inaudibly, thrashing and resisting against the ground.

The skin almost dissolved from the woman, leaving a skeleton that didn’t even look human, the footage filtering in and out of focus as a buzzing noise droned on as… My.. wife stood up, covered in blood. Human bones on the floor along with a pool of blood as she slowly trudged out of frame.

We sat in silence as the recording ended. A tense atmosphere taking over the room. You could hear a pin drop.

..

“So that’s where her new vessel came from”

His muscles tensed at my words, back going stiff, clearly not expecting my words. Letting out a chilling laugh as he slowly turned around to meet my gaze when he scrambled back, tripping over the trolly, sending the television flying to the ground. The skin around my arms and face began to whither and decay, like a dying flower. I slid my now broken arms from the restraints, limping towards him, skin blossoming a deep purple from the snapping of my bones. Not like it bothers me, I feel no sympathy, no human emotions or pain, his pleading screams had no effect on me, not when I tore the bones from his writhing body, not when his shrieks filled my ears, it was more annoying than anything, I eventually wriggled into his body, leaving a pile of flesh, bones and blood beneath me.

I stood, turning towards the door, entering an office looking room and paused to read a calendar. October 17th, 1982. I smiled. It’s almost Halloween, the easiest day of the year to find new vessels. Humming a tune, I made my way to the hallways of the facility, I should probably return home to my wife soon, before she comes to find me first, again.