Sinister Scribblings - Volume 1: A Short Story Collection by Matt Hickman

Author:Matt Hickman [Hickman, Matt]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2017-05-05T00:00:00+00:00

*****

Ian awoke with a start. The back of his throat felt raw and his head was pounding as if he’d been hit over the head with a baseball bat. It threatened to explode and send the contents of his cranium spraying into the room like an erupting volcano. He carefully inspected the room around him, it was empty. He was still in the room with dark, brick walls. The solitary light bulb continued to swing gently from the electrical fixture above him in the centre of the room. On the far wall stood a tall, rectangular doorway with a small, square observation window near the top of the frame. No handles or latches were on the inside.

He looked down and panicked as he realised that the massive crater that had been cut into his chest had now been sewn up with coarse black thread. The stitches criss-crossed across his torso like a grisly, fucked up teddy bear. The skin around the edges of the stitches had begun to turn purple where the thread had punctured the skin. Dried blood was plastered across his entire frame.

He attempted to pull against his bonds – he couldn’t move a muscle.

Ian watched as the man clad in black latex stood next to him, the scalpel held aloft in his left hand. He inched the blade towards Ian’s face.

“Please, no, you don’t have to do this. Please, I beg you.”

Ignoring his plea, the man began slicing along the centre of Ian’s forehead with the blade. Ian attempted to flinch but couldn’t, he no longer felt the pain from the blade as it cut, but he could feel the sensation as it effortlessly cut between the outer layers of flesh. He stared in disbelief as the latex man placed the scalpel back down onto the tray and placed his fingertips between the edges of the slit across his forehead.

There was a squelching sound, and the feeling of resistance for a few moments before the man worked the skin and hair loose on his scalp. It came free from the top of his head with a soft ripping sound. He quickly threw it onto the trolley with the gathering mass of gore.

The man returned with a small angle grinder in his hands. The circular blade whizzed into motion as he depressed the button with his latex clad finger. He held the tool out in front of Ian’s face for a moment, he almost became hypnotised by the gyration of the blade.

“Kllaaddfffrrrr.”

Ian attempted to close his eyes as the latex man inched the ceramic blade to the side of his head. The vibrations shot around his cranium like the roar of rumbling thunder as the circular blade touched and scratched the side of his exposed skull. He lay still, unable to move as the man increased the pressure, forcing the blade downwards and into his skull. His whole head jarred and vibrated as the blade bit down into the bone, shaking as it gripped and sent a violent tremor around his head and along his jawbone, threatening to smash his teeth.

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