Into the Nightmares: A Curated Collection (Tales From The Inferno) by Darkmoore Jay

Author:Darkmoore, Jay
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-02-28T00:00:00+00:00

The Chair of F.E.A.R

ONE

“Come right this way,” the Doctor said as I got up from the chair in the waiting room. He was wearing a long white coat and the harsh strip lighting bounced off his thick glasses. I thought it funny that Doctors still wore long lab coats. It somewhat of a cliché in this age and I found this somewhat peculiar, but I didn’t feel compelled to mention his attire. He knew, as did everyone else in the building that had laid their eyes on me as I walked in, that I was desperate.

We moved through a room in which a receptionist sat with her head buried in the latest Vogue magazine. The Doctor gestured to her as we moved past and through a door at the other end of the hallway.

The room took me by surprise: It was illuminated but with no obvious source of light. The walls were a scaled grey like one might find on a fish that had been pulled out of the water prior to being flayed. The object of my focus, however, was the chair that stood empty in the middle of the room.

He gestured for me to take a seat, to which I complied. Despite my growing anxiety, like spiders hatching in my stomach, I refrained from asking any questions about what was about to unfold.

The screening process was simple, with but one question on the application form.

Are you desperate for change in your life?

The answer to that was a resounding ‘Yes,’ to which I filled in the application in the paper and submitted it. I was happy to hear that just a few days later, I had received correspondence through the post with the Sigil of the establishment from the ‘Facility of Emotional and Adrenal Research,’ (or ‘F.E.A.R’ for short) arrive on the carpet of my one-bedroom flat.

Thankfully I hadn’t slept very well, meaning when the letter box rattled, I was upon the envelope in seconds. The discarded beer cans and half-finished pizza boxes that lined the floor cushioned the letter like the falling of a feather on snow.

Upon arrival, I completed the medical questionnaire and presented my identification. The box labelled ‘Emergency contact’ remained blank. However, I imagined given my acceptance of such an experimental proposal, that this made me a further A grade candidate.

The Doctor studied me as I sat myself down in the chair, as I studied the furnishing itself.

“Why is it bolted to the floor?” I inquired, my voice falling flat in the empty room. At first, I was unsure if he had heard me, but his moustache quivered as his mouth craned into a stretched grin.

“It’s just a precaution.” He left the room for a moment, leaving me to my own thoughts. He returned with a small leather bag and opened the flap which lay like a dead tongue. I eyed the dark innards like a mystery box one might find in a fairground attraction, daring you to place your hand inside its fleshy mouth if you’re brave enough.

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