When the Dark Wins

The hard floor?

Was I standing?

That didn’t make sense. I was probably lying down in a hospital bed.

Jesus fuck. Why couldn’t I see anything?

I tried to speak, to call out for help, but was met with only silence.

Silence and darkness. Darkness and silence.

Just like the accident.

Was I still trapped in the car? Was my mind playing tricks on me? I have heard of people in extreme situations hallucinating. Was that what this was? Would I know it if I were?

Jesus fuck!

Wait. I can hear movement. The shuffling of feet. A nurse? Doctor?

A thin beam of light in the shape of a rectangle appears before me. The outline of a door. But if I’m facing it, then does that mean I’m standing?

I try to close my eyes to the bright flash of light as the door is opened but nothing happens. The light hurts.

“There you are!”

Framed by the white light, the person in front of me is in shadow. I don’t recognize his voice.

I try to speak but nothing happens.

The man grabs me by the waist and spins me around. I see clothes dangling from hangers. Shelves with shoe boxes and a clear container filled with ribbons and hair brushes.

It’s a closet.

Was I in a closet? No, I must be confused.

Jesus fuck, what the fuck is going on?

The man lifts me off my feet and carries me.

I can’t move.

Can’t cry out.

I’m trapped inside my own body.

I should be dead weight, but he lifts me as if I weigh nothing. The room is a spinning flash of color and distorted shapes before I am set down. I cannot move my head, but I see he’s placed me on a sofa. He moves away to walk behind me. I take the moment to observe my surroundings. Expecting to see the usual white linoleum floors and bad pastel artwork of a hospital room, my stomach clenches with fear as I observe the dark, wood paneled room. There is a massive flat screen TV with two leather recliners in front. A small bar with several glowing neon signs, one of which says Steve’s Man Cave. A pinball machine and several black book shelves filled with what looks like movies and video games. The walls are covered in those cheap beer mirrors you see in dive bars.

I can hear what sounds like the opening of a refrigerator. Then the pop and hiss of a beer bottle being opened. The man steps back into my line of vision.

Is this Steve?

He’s older than me. Much older. And tall. He has the sort of build you see in older men who used to be jocks in high school. Broad shoulders and strong arms but with a bit of a soft belly. His hair is dark, but I can’t make out his eyes.

Who the fuck are you? Where the fuck am I? I scream but I hear no sound. His face shows no reaction as he just takes a sip of his beer and stares down at me.

“It’s just you and me. The wife is out getting drunk with her girlfriends, so I got all night. What game should we play?”

I start to scream and thrash about… but it’s only in my head.