Don't Peek

Don't Peek

A Story by LionJesus
"

This is a short story that I had been thinking about for a while and finally had a chance to write it all out during a class. If it keeps you guessing until the end then I'm happy. Enjoy!

"
I had been standing too long. My heels felt like they were the head of a giant nail with the nasty, pointy bit stabbing up my legs. Still, I didn't want to move. My hands were ever so lifted up in front of me. Fingertips were resting on what I remember to be a sleek metal table with gently rolled corners on which my fingers had roosted. It was as cold as its colour, that steel blade or fancy fridge silver, and the tips of my digits were losing sensation from the metals bite. I shivered, the rest of the room was cold too, the telltale sound of a deep, continuous breath out coming from the AC's mechanical lungs, filling the room with the god damn cold. I don't like being cold. I don't want to be here, standing with my eyes closed like an idiot, refusing to look down at what's on the table.

The man who led me in here was really letting me take all the time I need. It must have been at least twenty minutes. Twenty minutes of me standing in a room alone, the walls beyond my eyelids a watered out, lifeless colour with florescent tube light shrieking against it. Twenty minutes of me shivering and blaming the cold. I was counting on the old geezer to come back through the sealed door behind me to check on me then I could escape. I guess he's too respectful, he doesn't want to disturb me. His old face was wrinkled with what I guessed to be concern and probably empathy, eyes nearly overwhelmed by his crinkled skin. Looked like a shorter version of my grandfather now that I think about it.

Another shiver shook its was from my bowels and my fingers jerked loose and scooted a tiny bit onto the tabletop. My guts just as quickly solidified, heart becoming a solid cinder block in my chest for a minute. My eyes tried to flutter open, but I mentally slammed them down. Not yet, definitely not yet. Stone organs slowly returned to normal and was taken over by gentle tremors that seemed to make my bones quiver. Fingertips no longer gently rested but firmly poised on the table, maybe a little too firmly, I took an ice breath through my mouth and blew out with the AC machine.

Okay, it's been long enough. The only way you're getting out of here is if you get this s****y business over with, just do it now, do it quick and we can pretend it never happened.

After another couple of minutes of waiting for the sound of the door, I breathed again and delicately inched my fingers forward. I would just feel it, just a little, and confirm that nothing is going to happen so I can open my eyes like a grownup. It was uncomfortable moving my now numb fingers along the surface, like the tiny sharpness of the cold and grip of the tabletop could be razor shaving layer upon layer of fingerprint off. I couldn't remember how far in on the table it was and my hands burned with anticipation as I moved forward, arms tightly coiled and ready to launch away. The process was so slow going that I could swear my hands were in the middle of the table.

Then suddenly, I touched something.

All that was in my head was the thump of my heart and woosh of blood. The fabric was wrinkled up and it tickled above my fingernails on my hand. My tense arms wouldn't relax, listening to both messages of 'keep calm' and 'get the f**k away from it'  sent from my brain.

It didn't move. It didn't do anything, like I knew it would. Still, having its presence so close, close enough to brush made the core part of me try to burst out through my spine just to get away from it. Fingers frozen like a caught criminal and ready to bolt away, I exerted what little willpower I found attached to the though 'get it over with' and pushed them forward. Something solid greeted them.

My hands shuddered in horror and would have catapulted from the table if the rest of me hadn't become completely rigid. The fabric was between us, a barrier only physically from the cold form behind it. My fingers shivered against it.

See? Nothing happening besides you nearly pissing yourself, whats the problem? Just get this fabric out of the way and we can do what we came to do and get out here. Out of here sounds nice right?

The voice in my head was unconvincing and knew it too, even having a slight shake to it.

Nothing was happening. The AC's eternal hum was the only thing seeming alive in the room. Wrestling the invisible force that held my hands fast, fingertips finally broke contact and drifted up, forward, then down as gingerly as one touches a land mine.

It had the tiniest bit of give as my hand touched down.

My eyes fought some control back and peeked past quivering lids at the blurry white form covering most of the equally blurry table. I was standing on a long side of the table near an end, and the end of the white fabric was close, only inches away. Though there was a sick, hot acid burn in my stomach from touching it. there was still no response.

You're fine, you're fine, almost there, keep it going.

Cursing this dread and utter revulsion churning deep inside sea monsters, I lifted my hand, a pink smudge in the white blur, and moved it towards the end of the fabric laying flat on the table. The corner was a hard nub of fabric, my handhold, and I squeezed it between finger and thumb with eyes shut tight again.

Okay, have a couple of breaths, compose yourself then flip the fabric. It probably won't even be that bad right? Right?

No part of my brain had a response.

In anticipation, my body tightened even more, jaw clamped tight, arm so tense it was vibrating slightly. One deep breath, lungs full of chill, and I lifted the corner, paused, then dragged it across to my right. The sounds of delicate rustling, tiny fabric snags, and the small scuff on the table top all boomed in my ears. Once I was sure it was far enough, I let go and a gentle rustle finalized it.

There. Only one thing left to do now. I tried to take a deep breath but something clamped my lungs tight and I could only manage mouse sized breaths. My eyes, desperate to see earlier now remained locked and I didn't have the key.

A click, maybe the AC tsk-ing my constant evading perhaps, sent a bolt through me and shocked my eyes open, and then I was looking at it.

The first thing I noticed was the red. A lot of red where there wasn't suppose to be red on a face that now stared up into the lights. I barely kept balanced in my hollow shell body as I looked down at a human mess that was all that is left of a person I knew.

© 2015 LionJesus


Author's Note

LionJesus
I haven't gotten the chance to be critiqued in a long time so DO IT! Don't worry about being delicate and hurting my feelings, buuuuut no need to be rude or anything. Feel free to rip apart grammar if you so wish, I'm not the best with it. Feedback on timing and word choices would be appreciated, thank you!

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Added on January 20, 2015
Last Updated on January 20, 2015
Tags: suspense, humor, mystery, dark, nonfiction, first person

Author

LionJesus
LionJesus

Albertaaaaa, Canada



About
By day I'm a student animator and by night... well, same thing, when you animate you don't got time for nothing else! Still, when I get some briefs seconds of light and a couple gulps of fresh air I l.. more..

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