Lost in the Dark

Lost

He didn't feel so great at the time. Sad, lonely, depressed, of course, he was a teenager. What other kind of person would feel that way for absolutely no reason? But that's not the story...

It was a game of football tossed together on a Wednesday in fall. It was made up of a bunch of adolescents and teens from the area that were there. Everyone was having a good time, fun clean tackle football at the church.

Chris caught the football as it came spiraling down through the air. He ran past the trees and scored.

It was three on three, Chris, Mike, and Luke against Ryan, Scott, and Dustin. Luke was playing quarterback for that team while Dustin was for other.

The field flipped. Luke tossed the ball into the air. Scott picked it up and began running the field. Scott was fast, very fast, very tough. He ran along the left, Luke tried to stop him but was unable to. Mike was busy with Dustin. Chris charged forward and stopped Scott after pulling him to his knees.

The ball came back to Chris' team. Luke passed it to Chris. Chris ran to the right, he dodged Ryan, then Scott. Dustin stood before him; Chris ran left and then hit the ground hard. He felt the air sucked out of him and a feeling of adrenaline rush to his head.

Scott had come from the side and knocked him to the grass. He didn't move, he just layed there stunned. Scott stood over him looking down, "You okay man?"

"Yeah fine, I think. That just hurt a bit," Chris replied as he rubbed his head that had begun aching.

"Ready to get up?" Scott asked, offering a hand.

"Yeah, sure," Chris said taking it.

"Hey, what happened?" asked Luke as he walked over.

"I took him down," Scott replied.

"Hard," added Chris.

"You want to rest for a bit dude?" Luke suggested.

"Uh, I think I'll be okay," Chris told him.

"Alright then, let's go."

Dustin stole the ball and ended up running down the other way giving his team an edge in the score. More people showed up joining in the game. Chris played on, harder, wanting to get back at Scott, not hurt him but take him down to equal the score.

After one play they collapsed and took a breathe. Chris looked up to the sky. It felt so good to rest. The air nipped him on the chin. He closed his eyes; a feeling of pain had entered his head; he winced.

"Ready man?" Scott asked standing near.

Chris felt cold, chilled really, "I'm going to go inside for a second."

"Sure."

Chris rose to his feet feeling light headed; he was exhausted as well. He got to the door and pulled it open. A girl sat on the steps to the upstairs watching as things continued in there way. Chris went to the fountain and got a drink from it. The water was cool and refreshing as he leaned into it. He finished and stood up and stepped back and sat into a chair in a slump.

The front doors opened and a teen walked in. "Hey man, if I didn't know any better, I'd say that was your first time getting knocked down."

"Hey Stu, mind shutting up?" Chris asked.

"Yeah, sure. Anything else I can do for you?"

"Na..." his eyelids sagged. He felt no care in the world at all. Nothing worried him from the mess of his life and home, he just relaxed from the game for a bit. His vision of the world had turned into fifty percent of what it was, blurred and narrowed he couldn't make out much, he just knew that people were passing by him. Shadows and flashes dancing, he didn't make any worry from it. Voices soon filled the clutter of senses as well. It all was no more than a dream to Chris...

"Chris?" said a familiar voice, "Chris. Chris wake up."

In front of him stood Katie. She looked worried about something. The light of the place told him it was much later than when he'd sat down from football. The windows reflected back his face surrounded by darkness.

"What time is it?" he asked.

"It's almost seven."

Chris sat there in thought.

"Are you going to be okay? I heard you got knocked down hard by Scott," Katie told him.

"Yeah, I did."

"Chris? Did you just hear what I asked you?" Katie asked.

'Huh?' he thought, "I'm going to go splash some water on my face."

"Alright," Katie said.

Chris got up and walked over to the men's room. He turn the knobs for water. Drops came out, then was a steady dribble; the water came slowly. Chris cupped his hands and watched the water gather. He lowered his head and splashed it up. It felt cool to him. He still felt that throbbing pain in his head, it hadn't gone away with the rest. He wiped the water from his eyes and looked into the mirrior. He did look bad, pale.

'You look like you feel. Dead,' he told himself.

Chris looked himself in the eye. He couldn't see himself looking back, just a shell. The lights flickered, casting him in darkness for a split second. He felt seperate from everything he saw. He drew close to the mirror with resistance. The light played on him, becoming more and more sullen. The face opposite him wasn't his, it was someone he knew, someone close, a long lost friend? A smile crossed the face in the mirror, then it was him again, Chris was looking himself in the mirror, he pulled back.

He didn't feel like doing much more than resting. He couldn't go home though, his brother was causing problems for their mother and he knew he couldn't deal with that. Home was his problem, this was his escape, now he had nowhere. If he stayed he'd have to deal with social pressure and the fact that he'd have to leave would haunt him till he did. He wanted out, out of life.

Katie was his rock. He only would think of her and his senses came back.

Chris walked out the door and saw there before him Katie in the arms of Ryan. Then Chris blacked out.


Chris opened his eyes, everything was dark. He was in the sanctuary. The last thing he remembered was blacking out after seeing Katie with Ryan. He sat up with his arms and looked to the back, Stu was sitting in the farthest pew.

"How ya feelin'?" he asked.

"Confused. What's going on?"

"You fainted. I told everyone you went home. Then i jammed a back door to stay open and snuck back in after everyone left." Pretty simple," Stu explained.

"This might be an obvious question, why?" chris asked.

"Because you've taken everything from me. You took Katie from me, you killed my parents, you even took my super double secret decoder ring from me!" Stu explained in a whinning cry.

"Right... that made no sense... I think I'll be going home."

"I fail to agree. We aren't going anywhere."

"You can't stop me, you've never been able to."

"Well, I've never been this desperate," Stu told him as he rose and began towards Chris.

"Fine, try and stop me."

"Okay. I want you to start running, if you don't, I'll shoot you. I already jammed all the doors closed so there is no way out. And... go!" Stu yelled pulling out a small revolver from a jacket pocket.

Chris ran. He wasn't taking any chances. The crazy sounding voice of Stu followed him as he ran through the door at the front of the sanctuary, "See, This isn't just a game, this is The Game. This is for everything.

"Think back old friend, what do you remember? Remember when you were so excited abou us taking that vacation together? Or how we always have the same classes?"

"So?"

"'So?'! Don't you get it. I'm in your mind. Ever remember anyone talking with me and you? Or how about anyone physically interacting with me? I'm the voice talking to you! You made me up, I'm no one because of you! But here, we are the same, kind of.

"See," Stu continued on, "this is my world that we are in now. Here you are the one that is at a disadvantage. And whoever walks out of this takes your body. I'm the game master, I make the rules, you're the player. And we've already begun."

Chris couldn't imagine what was happening. He couldn't hear where Stu was. He couldn't think of anywhere safe that he could hide that Stu wouldn't look. They were the best of friends, they thought so similar. 'It couldn't be true,' he thought.

Then he heard a noise, it was like heavy breathing, it was coming from the sanctuary. He could either run up the stairs or run down them, if he stayed he'd take the chance of being found right away.

There was a clicking, and a strange animal call of some kind. He looked through a slit from his hiding spot. He caught a part of a shadow. It looked like a tail, a five foot tail. He didn't hear Stu anymore though.

He was surrounded by an utter darkness, nothing could see in it, but he felt eyes right on him. Something was with him. He had to try and get away. He jolted to the door and crawled out and ran up the stairs.

He didn't dare to look back, whatever that creature was that he'd seen the tail of was after him, and it was fast. He turned the corner. There were two doors; he opened both of them, maybe he could confuse the creature. He stood still in the heater room with his back to the door. He heard the clicking again, it was in an even rythmic beat, he heard the low "growl" of it approaching in tempo with the clicks.

The thing put it's snout into the heater room, the sound of sniffling ensued, it nudged the door completely open and entered. The heat was burning his back. The rumbling of the machine was loud as well. He just hoped it would keep him hidden. The clicking was growing ever closer. Chris was shaking with fear. Chris heard a slam. All the noises grew louder. The creature turned around and started ramming the door. Chris had become trapped in the room with that thing.

There was nothing to do, he was at reality's submission, though this couldn't even be reality, but if it weren't then he didn't want to know what it was, because it could only be bad. The creature continued slamming into the door, it didn't appear to like being enclosed in this space. Chris was sweating profusely now, it hadn't taken long for that to happen. He was frozen in place as well, one move and he was gone. That thing wasn't growing tired, only more and more agrivated.

Chris, frozen and fried, took a breath just as the noise stopped. The creature had ceased its crashing into the door, now it was making that clicking noise again, like a claw on a hard surface. It wasn't moving, it was standing there in place. Chris heard the growl more clear, it was pointed back into the room. 'Maybe it heard me', Chris thought. The clicks where coming back, closer and closer. Then the thing crashed into the heater, it'd taken it completely out, as Chris heard both hit the floor. The creature cried out in pain, it was hurting. Chris ran to the door, he tried the knob, it didn't work, it'd been broken. There was no way out.

'This is to be my fate,' he thought to himself, 'To die to something I don't even know what it is and to suffer this awful heat.' He couldn't believe it. His great idea had failed him miseribly. The door was it. 'Oh, why?!' he cried to himself.

Chris turned his ears to the beast that was down, it'd become silent. Chris walked over to where it had been, careful to not stumble into it. He knew he was getting near, he shortened his steps. He bent down to touch, he had to touch, had to get an impression of it. All he felt was the heater when it burnt his hand. Chris shot to atttention. That thing wasn't down, which meant it'd gotten up. Chris stilled and listened. Nothing. It had to have gone somewhere, things don't just vanish. (Do they?) The thought flashed into his mind.

He stood up and began towards the wall, he had nothing to lose, either he died a, most likely, horrible and painful death or he found something. His hand touched the wall. He began feeling around. It was solid concrete. He moved right. Nothing. His foot hit the fallen heater. he stepped over it and felt a break in the wall. There was something there. Chris moved further right, there was only more wall. He didn't feel any sign of something. The wall was wall.

Chris felt his way back to the break. He went up and down it. There it was, a handle. He gripped it and pulled it open.

He walked back into the hall he'd been in before. The door to the heater room looked battered and jammed, which explained why it hadn't been able to open. Chris looked; the stairs back down looked full of shadows and darkness, it was like they led into a pit of hungery voids of being. It wasn't even a possible choice, it would swallow him. The only way was into the second floor hall or the youth room.

Fear. The wonderous glorious frightening Fear. The thoughts that chill you deeply. There is always something there to fear. There are the thoughts of others being hurt and then the worry of that which you don't know, the camping fear. The fear of the woods. Pain and primal fear, when you don't fear one you fear the other.

Some glad morning when this life is o'er I'l fly away.
To a home on God's celestial shore I'll fly away.

I'll fly away, o glory, I'll fly away
When I die, hallelujah, by and by.
I'll fly away.

When the shadows of this life have gone I'll fly away.
Like a bird from prison bars has flown I'll fly away.

I'll fly away, o glory, I'll fly away
When I die, hallelujah, by and by.
I'll fly away.

Just a few more weary days and then I'll fly away.
To a land where joys shall never end I'll fly away.

I'll fly away, o glory, I'll fly away
When I die, hallelujah, by and by.
I'll fly away.

Chris pulled open the door and entered the front of the youth room. Shadows cast themselves from the windows on the left. Bibles scattered the floor, the room looked like it'd been left to itself after a Wednesday. The walls seemed abstract in the light of the night. Chris was in the middle of the room when the door on his right flew open and Katie walked in.

"What's up lover boy?" she asked as she stubled in, "where's the hankercheif?"

"Katie? What are you doing here?" Chris asked, "Did Stu force you to be?"

"Stu? I haven't seen him around."

"Hey, what'd you stop for?" a voice asked coming from behind her.

Ryan staggered in, catching his balance with Katie's shoulder. They reaked of beer. Both were holding a clear cup with an amber liquid in it that was crashing around the walls of its container. There was no doubt they were drunk. Chris couldn't understand.

"You mind getting out of here? Unless you want to stay... We were about to, 'christen', this room," Ryan told him.

Ryan grabbed Katie and she laughed as they moved up to the stage at the front. Chris could only watch as they drunkedly zig-zagged about their way. The beer fell from their hands to the floor and onto some of the Bibles on the ground.

It wasn't right, none of it.

"I can't believe you ever liked that guy," Ryan said to Katie.

Chris stood, back to them. It hurt so much. It was more than loss, it was watching the destruction of two people he cared about. It wasn't like them though, they never would act this way, would they? Chris knew Ryan, Ryan was good, he never gave the chance of thought to enter a person's mind that he would ever, (sin?), like he was. Sure, they weren't together all the time, but he was Chris' best friend.

'A joke, remember? In the car that one time. That slip-up...'

What of Katie though, she'd been his. This wasn't real.

'You saw it with your own eyes... they were together.'

"I don't know what I saw..."

'You've known her for what? A few months?'

"I know her!"

'Right...'

Chris walked down the room to the back and the door as the two friends were in the front continuing with what they'd brought with them from the hall. Chris left them.



Chris walked through the building, he was being hunted. Somewhere in here he knew Stu was waiting for him. The halls seemed to spin and warp as he moved along. Stu wouldn't let him escape this time; he wanted complete control. The doors on each side seemed anxious to open and scare him. He knew that even though everything looked familiar in this place, it was all out for him. It was like a game. There was no way to get out. The only thing to do was play along and win.

The black strobe lights already made it hard to move without worry, but he could hear behind him a noise of metal ripping dry wall. Clear clicking of heavy boots followed. Chris ran the corner and slipped on the floor and fell. A giggle came from behind him. He turned to see a little girl dash into the bathroom and drop a bowl to the floor. Water. He struggled to his feet and pulled himself forward. He knew he had to get into a room before whatever this thing was that Stu had conjured up reached him. The children's classroom stood just before him, he'd be able to make it. That was all he really wanted to do, make it to the next challenge.

The ripping wasn't far behind him, just around the corner. Chris turned his head back to see, a tall black figure was moving toward him, a hook where his left hand should be was in the wall cutting a rigid line as it went. Chris shook with fear at the shape. The door was a foot away. The hookman had risen his left arm to strike. Chris pushed the door open and shot through.

That door couldn't prevent anything from entering, Chris knew it. There was the sound of banging and cracking, the door shook. The noise continued. Chris got off the floor and headed behind the piano, there couldn't be any escape this time. Light streamed through the window and reflected off the floor, light and shadows filled the room. Chris heard the wood splinter on his side of the door. Bits fell to the ground. The sound of the knob turning and the door opening followed. Chris was balled up behind the piano, the madman wouldn't take much time finding him.

The heavy boots clicking on the floor were the only noises in the room. He'd entered. The steel chairs began crashing on the walls. The hookman was messing with him. Chris was cornered with three walls around him and a killer with a hook between the exit. Chris saw a chair fly into the wall on his right.

There wasn't any sense in hiding now. Chris had lost. He stood up and looked the hookman in the face. The face of a madman looked him back, the eyes though were of ration and sanity. Chris walked around the piano and stood ready to die.

"Chris, Chris, Chris. Do you have any honor? You go down fighting!" Stu yelled walking into the room, "Well, at least that would make it fun!

"See, I'm smarter than you, I'm better than you! You have nowhere to go! I live and you die!"

"You want a chase? I'll give you a chase. You know I'm not one to back down from challenges. You and me, nothing else," Chris challenged back.

"Fine, me and you, no hookman or monsters. Time for hide and go kill!" Stu vanished, "Run!"

Chris looked around, there was no one else in the room. No noise emitted from the hall or side room.

This was the final chance to escape, Chris had no plans of playing any psychotic games. He picked up a chair and walked to the hall. Stu could be anywhere, ready to jam a knife through Chris' chest.

"Are you thinking of cheating? That wouldn't be right! Can't have cheaters, can we?" Stu's voice said from behind him. In the reflection in the window he saw his sick friend over his shoulder. Chris felt a sudden prick in the left side of his back and then a sudden burst of pain. Chris turned his head to see Stu holding a blooded knife, "Now please, run."

Chris dropped the chair and went out the door and down the twisted halls. There was nowhere to hide that Stu wouldn't look. Except for one...

He opened the doors and slipped inside, manuvering to not fall. The doors closed and it went pitch black.



Chris' back was weak, he couldn't stand much longer like this. An echo erupted from above him. This was the only place he could hide without being found, but in exchange was the danger it entailed. Gears began shifting, the ceiling began lowering, it was coming down. The sound was so loud he couldn't tell how low it'd fallen.

He knew it was getting closer, he rushed for the doors, it was either that or being crushed. A ray of light shown in as he pried them open. He climbed out and got to his feet, the elevator would be opening and Stu would step out of it.

The bell chimed and the doors opened, Chris looked with anticipated horror towards the doors. The light from the cage was blinding. The silence was nerve racking. The doors closed, no one was there. This was all part of the game.


Chris moved onward down the hall. Doors phlanxed him on either side, omnious statue-like. Moon light filtered through from windows within the rooms. Chris couldn't figure why he was doing this, it wasn't thoughtful, it was the worst possible thing to do. Yet, he stagered forward to the stairwell at the end of the dark tunnel of a hall.


Frère Jacques, Frère Jacques,
Dormez-vous? Dormez-vous?
Sonnez les matines. Sonnez les matines.
Din, din, don. Din, din, don.

Frère Jacques, Frère Jacques,
Dormez-vous? Dormez-vous?
Sonnez les matines. Sonnez les matines.
Din, din, don. Din, din, don.

Shadows cast themselves all over the hall. Chris was in tortured agony. He couldn't figure anything out. He had nowhere to go, no way to hide, and no way to disappear... He didn't want to die! but he didn't want to live. If he were a shadow, he could come and go as he pleased, he'd be untouchable, always there if he wanted, or never if he chose.

Time had gone so slow. Morning had to be coming soon, then he could escape. He moved toward a door to slip inside, there he'd find refuge from the lunatic. He closed the door, watching the hall carefully. He turned and moved behind a desk on the right. A single window cast light onto the the desk and funiture of the room, and cast shadows behind them. Chris huntched behind the desk and continued the waiting game.

Stu stepped out from the shadows and lunged at Chris.

He hadn't seen him hiding in the shadows next to the window, it was a blind spot. Stu had been mute and still, like he hadn't been there. The room was dark, it was as simple as that.

Stu had Chris pinned to the ground. Stu held the blade in his left hand. Chris struggled as he gripped Stu's arm away off to the side of his head. Stu's face was darkened by the shadows but the whites of the wide eyes were visable as were the teeth the way Stu's jaw clinched open. Chris felt the hot breath of Stu on his face, it smelled of an old burger. Chris kneed him in the back to throw him off, it didn't work. Stu responded by slamming his own head into Chris'. Chris' head throbbed in pain, Chris winced his eyes. The blow had taken him for a loop, he'd lost focus and now the knife was inches above his head. Stu had the advantage now. The knife moved downward closer to his face, Chris couldn't throw Stu's arm off track.

Just a few more weary days and then I'll fly away.

Chris felt the tip of the knife crawl over his face, making spirals and shapes and lines as it went. It wasn't drawing blood, but was only scratching. Stu twisted the handle and dug deeper into Chis' skin, Chris let out a small whine of pain. Chris struggled to release his left hand pinned to the ground. Stu wouldn't let off it, he brought it up and slammed it hard back onto the floor.

Stu switched the knife in his hand and slashed Chris hand. Chris let go and buried his hand in his shirt. Chris tilted to the left trying to throw Stu off. stu ran the knife through Chris' shoulder; Chris screamed. Stu raised the knife over his arm and dropped it across Chris' head. Chris screamed again as he felt blood trickle over his skin.

It was torture, he couldn't imagine anything much worse. He was helpless to defend himself against that which was on him. He didn't want anymore, "Kill me already! That's what you want, isn't it?"

Stu's face show'd something of twisted bliss, "Beg me! I want to hear you scream! Tell me you need me to kill you!"

Chris wouldn't; he clinched his teeth in pain. It was tolling him, "No."

"I'm going to rip you open. I'll stab you so many times in the heart that they'll be able to see right through you. I am going to make you bleed so much that they'll have to drain it out of the room. And if you continue this insabordination, there won't be an inch of skin on you!"

Chris spit on him, "Go to-"

Stu ran the knife into Chris' mouth. Chris wailed and shook, thrashing his free hand about. Stu removed the knife and wiped it clean on his shirt. He smiled down at Chris. He got off of and kneeled next to him, "Chris, it wasn't much that I asked. If we must do it the hard way though, then we must..."

Stu gripped the knife with both hands and lunged it into Chris' stomache. He pulled it out and did it again. Chris looked up with wide eyes, he wanted to scream but couldn't. Stu had won.



CORONER'S INQUEST FILE

NAME: PARRILL, CHRISTOPHER W.
FILE: NONE
S: M
R: W
M: S
AGE: 16
BIRTH: 12/20/1988
DEATH: 09/14/2005
VERDICT: SUICIDE

DESCRIPTION
MULTIPLE STAB WOUNDS INFLICTED TO THE BACK AND CHEST AREAS

-The End-

End song: Wounded Feet by Telecast

I'll Fly Away
Words and Music by Albert E. Brumleg

Frère Jacques
Children's Song of France, Old