The Awakening

                                                                    The Awakening
                                                                  By: K. L. Redding


  John tried to pull the sheet further up on his body to ward off the cold. For some reason it slipped right through his fingers without movement. John tried again, and still couldn't get a firm grasp on the white sheet. Frustrated he sat up to see what it might be caught on. The sudden effort made his head spin and he found himself falling off his bed.

  Sitting up more slowly John tried to take in his surroundings. First he noticed the cold tile floor that was not his own. "Where is the carpet…" slipped out in a whisper.  Jumping to his feet, he bumped into the cold steel table. The cold reminded him of his own and he began to shiver.  He glanced around wildly trying to place where he was in the dimly lit room.

  John could tell the room was not large; the only light came from overhead. " I'm a prisoner here…" bounced off the walls and he looked wildly around again to see who had spoken.

  No one was in sight, but many of the objects in the room were fuzzy. I was drugged slipped through his mind as he walked carefully to the nearest object on his right. No sounds met his ears, as his feet became colder with each step. It seemed to take several minutes to go a few feet, and John was surprised when he was not breathless from the effort.

  Now that he stood before the object his vision cleared enough to see what was before him.  It was another table like the one he had fallen off of after waking in this horrible place. There were some differences from the first one to this one. The first was simply flat; this one had a raised middle to form a gutter around the whole of the table with a drain at its feet. It was still wet with water drops lurking like shadows waiting for a small push to run down into the gutter and escape through the drain.

  John stood frozen for a moment trying to take in what this could mean to him. Shaking his head no he again looked around the room that would not come into focus. Spotting something on the other side of the table, He decided to make his way there. It was close and wouldn't take much time to get to it. " Not that time seems to be a problem." Followed his slow progress around the end of the autopsy table to the blurred object.

  Finally he stood before it and froze again. John felt his soul grow cold as if someone had poured ice water down the inside of his spine. No part of him would move as he studied the table before him. There where things on it he didn't recognize, but they all held one thing in common, they were all sharp. " Their going to kill me…" bounced off the walls in panic. Forcing him to fight the cold and make his body move for a hiding place.

  There was only one that he could see, but so blurred was his vision he was unsure if it really was one. John felt he had no time to lose, half-stumbling half-walking he made his way to what looked like a door across the room. His movements were so slow John was sure time didn't exist in this chamber of horror. The cold he was feeling grew more intense with every forced step. " I'll never make it." Slipped around him as his goal came into sight.

  John reached savagely for the first door handle he saw. It slipped through his fingers like running water. His fear increasing he jumped at the next handle, only to fall short of his goal again. He was about to make a third attempt, and then he noticed the number of doorways that stood before him. There were twelve, in neat rows of three, one stacked on top of the other. John stopped trying to find an escape through the small drawers of bodies.

  Slowly he turned back around and listened for any sound in the room, nothing came to him. Not the ticking of a clock, the sound of his own heart beat thundering in his ears, or harsh breathing of a person who had been filled with such effort from fear. Instead he saw an approaching form floating in soundless speed.

  It was huge, and filled every part of Johns' vision. The blackness blocked out every source of white around it, even the overhead lights seem to shrink in its presence. It came to a stop in the middle of the room spreading out even further.

  Then he saw it was not spreading out, but reaching for him with a long cloak covered hand. A thin white finger of bone wiggled at him in a come here motion. Johns' only reaction was to shake his head franticly. The thing moved closer to him with its hand still outstretched before it.

  "No, no, I'm not dead!"

  The size of the grim reaper increased to include the tall black handle sheltered with a white blade of a sickle. John felt the floor shake without sound when the sickle handle was tapped on the tile floor. Again the reaper called him to come forward with a white boned finger.

  " Get away from me! You made a mistake!"
  The reaper stood for a moment then waved his black-cloaked arm once through the air. It was like someone had flipped the on switch to sound. John could hear a phone ringing to the left side of him. With out thinking he moved with great force to answer it. To his surprise the effort knocked him to the ground. Fighting to stand back up, John heard a scraping noise by his feet. Looking down he saw a neatly typed toe tag on his right foot. Johns' body relaxed in acceptance of the truth, he was dead.