The Shortcut Part 2

sorry de intarziere, fix cand postez si eu ceva in serie mi se strica calculatorul, genial:

Calm down. This place isn’t that big, and you are not lost. You will not die here. Somebody else must be in here. You look around the old, filthy factory corridor. You calm yourself trying to imagine what purpose each room served for. You hear a noise, in the distance. Every bad thought you suppressed shows its head. There is no guard in the complex. It was crack addicts who put the chains on the gates, to lock you in, to kill you. No. Calm down! It was probably a rat.
You decide to go back to the gate, shout for help. Forget the humiliation, you’ve been here too long. You turn. You can barely hold back the scream which built up in your lungs. There he is, standing there, in the middle of the corridor, twenty feet away. He must have been following you. A dirty, long-haired, weirdly dressed, old man. You were right, fucking crack addicts. What will you do?
“You are guilty!” he says.
You are baffled. That is the last thing you expected. “Guilty of what?” you ask, “I’ve done nothing!”.
“You entered the realm. All who enter are guilty until proven innocent!”
That’s bullshit, it’s stupid, just fucking idiotic, tell him that. Tell him he’s a stupid fucking crack addict. “I don’t understand. Guilty of what? I didn’t know I was supposed to enter. I’m sorry! Look, I have money!”
“Silence! You will be trialed now.”
Shit! They come out! So fucking many. Where the fuck do they all come from? Filthy morlocks. They grab, you. You panic! You smell their stench! They tie you down.
“The rock will decide you fate.” The old one speaks again. He takes a rock from his pocket, he throws it at you, but it drops just before your feet. As it stops all scream out in join.
“You have not been found innocent. You will die!”
You scream out, you protest. That wasn’t a trial. That was bullshit. You scream, you beg, you curse, you try to bribe. They throw you in a small chamber, and lock you in. You are tied up on the floor. Silence creeps in as you hear them leave. You try to calm down. This cannot be real! Then you hear something crawling up a pipe. A rat appears in the room. You hear more of them coming. Many more. This isn’t right. This shouldn’t be happening. You hear them crawling and squeaking. Squeak. This is impossible. Squeak. This is not how the plan works. Squeak. Should be home by now. Squeak. No! Squeak. Squeak. Louder. Squeak. Squeak. Wait. It isn’t “squeak” it’s “beep”. Beep-beep-beep. Of course! It’s your alarm clock. It’s seven thirty. It’s morning. Beep. It was just a dream. Beep. That’s why it didn’t make sense. Beep. It’s all clear now. It was dream. Even though you cannot move. It was just a dream. As they crawl on you, it was just a dream. As they start nabbing. As hours seem to pass, and the pain grows unbearable, it was just a dream. As you finally bleed enough to faint. As life slips from your eyes, it was just a dream. It was just a dream.