Captive
You approach the solid pine door with a slight sense of apprehension, still not quite convinced that your friends aren't waiting on the other side, ready to jump in at any minute to scare the living hell out of you. You start mumbling under your breath as you reach for the door knob...
"Please let them be there. Oh God, let them be there."
You grasp the door knob, noticing as you do so that you've developed a slight tremor. You turn the door knob.
Nothing. Nada. The damn thing is locked. You jiggle to door knob, hoping its just stuck. Still nothing. You lean forward, placing an ear to the door. Not a sound. No stiffled giggles, no furtive whispers between conspirators. Not a damn thing.
Slowly you back away from the door, your stomach gripped in the steel fist of fear. This isn't a harmless prank. Your friends are not on the other side of that door. They'd have burst in here by now, their anticipation of your reactions too much to bear for long. No, this is something more than a prank.
Standing in the middle of the room, with your mind churning out all manner of possible horrific explanations, you start to sweat, a droplet trembling on your upper lip. The panic buttons are being pushed in a big way, your heart beating time with the onset of rapid hyperventilations.
"Calm down. Think!" you tell yourself.
Closing your eyes, you take deep calming breaths. Mentally slowing down your heart and respirations. You open your eyes and look around, getting your bearings, taking inventory again of your surroundings.
You take an unsure step and walk to the...
"Please let them be there. Oh God, let them be there."
You grasp the door knob, noticing as you do so that you've developed a slight tremor. You turn the door knob.
Nothing. Nada. The damn thing is locked. You jiggle to door knob, hoping its just stuck. Still nothing. You lean forward, placing an ear to the door. Not a sound. No stiffled giggles, no furtive whispers between conspirators. Not a damn thing.
Slowly you back away from the door, your stomach gripped in the steel fist of fear. This isn't a harmless prank. Your friends are not on the other side of that door. They'd have burst in here by now, their anticipation of your reactions too much to bear for long. No, this is something more than a prank.
Standing in the middle of the room, with your mind churning out all manner of possible horrific explanations, you start to sweat, a droplet trembling on your upper lip. The panic buttons are being pushed in a big way, your heart beating time with the onset of rapid hyperventilations.
"Calm down. Think!" you tell yourself.
Closing your eyes, you take deep calming breaths. Mentally slowing down your heart and respirations. You open your eyes and look around, getting your bearings, taking inventory again of your surroundings.
You take an unsure step and walk to the...