THE DUNGEN
It is at that moment you hear a man's voice from inside the portcullis, calm, proper, and even soothing. In a playful tone, he says "Honey! I'm hoomeee!" With the creak and swing of the rotten door i mean portcullis, you glance upon your condemner (played by Jim Carrey). He wears black boots, dark jeans, a hunter's vest, and a lumberjack's hat. "Did you miss me?" he says with perverted smile. Most disturbing was his way of speaking;
his voice was calm, steady, soothing even. You catch him furrow his brows as he looks inquisitively at the gauze removed from your friend's mouth.
"How did you..." He glances around. You quickly duck back behind the workbench, not sure if he saw you. A second passes, but as your heart beats seemingly louder than it ever has before and as your lungs burn will the withholding of oxygen, that second feels like eternity. You hear the faint cracks as the soles of his boots lift off the syrup-like ground. One eternity. Faint cracks once more. Two eternities. Three, and four. "Hello there," rings his voice from right above you in a fake and rather unsavory British accent.
his voice was calm, steady, soothing even. You catch him furrow his brows as he looks inquisitively at the gauze removed from your friend's mouth.
"How did you..." He glances around. You quickly duck back behind the workbench, not sure if he saw you. A second passes, but as your heart beats seemingly louder than it ever has before and as your lungs burn will the withholding of oxygen, that second feels like eternity. You hear the faint cracks as the soles of his boots lift off the syrup-like ground. One eternity. Faint cracks once more. Two eternities. Three, and four. "Hello there," rings his voice from right above you in a fake and rather unsavory British accent.