Free Exsanguinate by Killion Slade Page A

help but wonder how all this fear would affect the psyche, my psyche. One thing was clear to me, though, when it came to the flight or fight part of the brain, the humanity part of the equation leaves a person for a brief moment for self-preservation. If a person needed or chose flight, they wouldn’t care how or who was hurt, as long as they escaped the danger themselves. This was obviously demonstrated when that girl plowed me over.
    Shielding my face to brace for a horrific view, I kept telling myself that these were just actors and there was nothing to be frightened of. Scenes played out from The Island of Dr. Moreau, and The Exorcist inspired disgusted screams of gory fun as we continued along the corridor of the haunted house.
    I followed the line goers through the darkened corridor. I couldn’t see anything up ahead. What I hoped I wasn’t going to see were disturbing clowns, dolls with glass eyes, or gortraits watching me pass down the long, dark hall. Real things that made up nightmares.
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Chapter Ten
    A s I followed people into a dark room, my hand disappeared from my sight, instantly setting off the red safety flags in my mind. It bothered me that I didn’t have a reference point to protect me any longer as I was pushed into a room. I heard the click of a door lock behind me.
    Unholy hell - I don’t like this.
    I heard yelps from people, as scraping sounds of movement circled around us.
    “The walls are moving,” one woman said.
    Shouts from another. “No way – I can’t find the walls.”
    “Where did the damn walls go?” a man said through the pitch.
    I reached out behind me and the walls had moved.
    Unable to see, I had no idea if anything would be at my feet. I worried about falling again. I might trip on someone or worse yet, get trampled in here.
    The wailing began once again in three-dimensional sound as if it were happening all around us. My breathing hitched up a notch just to control the anxiety since I couldn’t see anything of logic to help block out what my ears were telling me. Knowing this had to be a part of the act, I took in slow inhales to remain calm praying that this nightmare would be over soon enough. I wondered how much time was left to meet Roxas.
    Will I be late? Would he wait for me? Where’s the damn exit sign?
    It wasn’t long until most people turned on their cell-phones or iPods in order to have a flashlight to help peer through the blackness. I, too, pulled out my iPod and held it down by the floor. I flashed the light onto where I thought the wall should be, but either the room was too dark, or my light wasn’t strong enough to illuminate the surface. I took several steps back to where I thought I had entered the room, and indeed, the wall was not there.
    The room itself was absolutely black, except for the dim haze which hung around the floor. A rush of air filled the floor with a cool, dense fog. This must be what we saw lingering from the group before us. The brume became thick, and my shoes were no longer visible. The chilly, opaque smoke wrapped around my legs almost as if trying to complete my mummy costume.
    A brilliant white, intense light erupted at the far end of the room accompanied by a train whistle. Its haunted lullaby became louder and, more penetrating by the second. The floor vibrated as the train approached. The direction of the light coupled with the vibration of the tracks encouraged people to scramble to get away from the imminent death engine barreling towards us. The train flew past us with the sound of the horn passing leaving us with the loud clackity clack of the cars passing by.
    This particular room must have been outfitted with a theater surround-sound system strategically placed for visual and audio effects. The sub-woofers in the floor vibrated for a surreal effect. There were whoops and hollers of appreciation from