ArtsAutosBooksBusinessEducationEntertainmentFamilyFashionFoodGamesGenderHealthHolidaysHomeHubPagesPersonal FinancePetsPoliticsReligionSportsTechnologyTravel

Unfinished Stories Pt 1- Blaine's Game

Updated on June 18, 2010

Introduction

This series is going to be composed of stories I've only started but never finished. If I get good feedback I'll be more likely to write more. This particular story is actually a screenplay idea that I've been writing out as prose for character and dialogue experimentation. I don't really consider myself an experienced prose writer, so I consider this to be something like practice. Any and all feedback is appreciated.

Blaine's Game

Two big guys are dragging me by my pits across concrete. Their arms are meat hooks, bulging with muscle and fat and living sinews. My sinews are dead. I am nothing but dead meat. Already slaughtered, but still waiting to be butchered, and conscious enough to feel it. Just barely.

The big guys drop me hard in a square room with blank gray walls. The searing pain in my knees from the long drag on the floor is a precious reminder. They take the restraints off of my wrists and ankles. They leave. I am off the hook. The literal one at least. Really, I won’t be off the hook for another forty-five years to life. This is the freezer, where they provide storage for the cold, and keep them cold.

“Goodbye, meat.”

They slam the door without saying a word, bolting it, leaving me in solitary confinement, so I won’t disturb the other popsicles. Some people can be so impolite. Nothing but darkness and a greasy green toilet to keep me company now.

Got a light?

I must’ve hit my head sometime recently.

You know, if there were no such thing as fire, no one would ever smoke.

I must’ve hit my head hard.

Leaning casually against the door of my cell…

“Who are you?” I ask.

Your name’s Jernigan isn’t it? I was kidding about the light.

A man, I think it’s a man, in a black pinstripe suit, with a white ascot around his neck and dark gloves on his hands… and a purple-black hole where his face should be. He rubs his thumb and the tip of his index finger together in front of the cigarette dangling from—were there lips?A small flame appears there in his fingers and lights the cigarette. He lifts his fedora from his head and I can see the tip of the purple-black pantyhose he has stretched over his face.

My name’s Blaine. Obliged to meet you.

Maybe I shoulda plead insanity.

Nonsense, you’re perfectly sane.

When someone appears outta nowhere and starts talking to your inner monologue, all sure signs point somewhere south of sanity.

Such poetry.

He takes a long drag on his cigarette straight through the pantyhose and exhales, the smoke sifting through the material and pouring out from all around the edges of his head. If this guy has one swatch of skin anywhere on his body I might never know.

They say the insane don’t know they’re insane.

“Yeah, well I just think I’m insane so where does that leave me?”

Enlightened. Or… not.

I put my head in my hands. I’m beginning to think I’d rather have a conversation with the toilet. It’s hard to tell how a guy’s feeling when he has his face covered like that.

Listen, Jernigan, I’m not here to ruin your perfectly lovely day.

His sarcasm was enough to make me want to kill him. First I lose my freedom, then I lose my mind. My day couldn’t possibly get worse.

As a matter of fact, I’m here to improve your situation. You just tell me what you want, and it’s yours.

“I wasn’t born in the last five minutes. No figment of my imagination is getting me anything worthwhile.”

Try me.

A momentary silence seems like an eternity when a man with no eyes is staring you down. Okay, Blaine, I’ll play along. How about this: I want whatever I want, whenever I want it.

Now we’re talking. Well, not literally.

He laugh-weezes out some more smoke, and then flicks the butt of his cigarette onto the floor, where it turns to ash.

That’s one big want. For that you’ll have to give me… your soul.

“Don’t I need that?”

He bends over laughing this laugh that makes me sick. I feel like I’ll never laugh again.

You can still use it. It’ll just be mine.

“Are you the Devil?”

Hm.

I think he’s smiling. Through the tiny window in the door I can see the outside― whatever lights were left on start to flicker and die out.

When you don’t have a hope left in this world, does it matter?

Comments

    0 of 8192 characters used
    Post Comment

    No comments yet.

    working

    This website uses cookies

    As a user in the EEA, your approval is needed on a few things. To provide a better website experience, hubpages.com uses cookies (and other similar technologies) and may collect, process, and share personal data. Please choose which areas of our service you consent to our doing so.

    For more information on managing or withdrawing consents and how we handle data, visit our Privacy Policy at: https://hubpages.com/privacy-policy#gdpr

    Show Details
    Necessary
    HubPages Device IDThis is used to identify particular browsers or devices when the access the service, and is used for security reasons.
    LoginThis is necessary to sign in to the HubPages Service.
    Google RecaptchaThis is used to prevent bots and spam. (Privacy Policy)
    AkismetThis is used to detect comment spam. (Privacy Policy)
    HubPages Google AnalyticsThis is used to provide data on traffic to our website, all personally identifyable data is anonymized. (Privacy Policy)
    HubPages Traffic PixelThis is used to collect data on traffic to articles and other pages on our site. Unless you are signed in to a HubPages account, all personally identifiable information is anonymized.
    Amazon Web ServicesThis is a cloud services platform that we used to host our service. (Privacy Policy)
    CloudflareThis is a cloud CDN service that we use to efficiently deliver files required for our service to operate such as javascript, cascading style sheets, images, and videos. (Privacy Policy)
    Google Hosted LibrariesJavascript software libraries such as jQuery are loaded at endpoints on the googleapis.com or gstatic.com domains, for performance and efficiency reasons. (Privacy Policy)
    Features
    Google Custom SearchThis is feature allows you to search the site. (Privacy Policy)
    Google MapsSome articles have Google Maps embedded in them. (Privacy Policy)
    Google ChartsThis is used to display charts and graphs on articles and the author center. (Privacy Policy)
    Google AdSense Host APIThis service allows you to sign up for or associate a Google AdSense account with HubPages, so that you can earn money from ads on your articles. No data is shared unless you engage with this feature. (Privacy Policy)
    Google YouTubeSome articles have YouTube videos embedded in them. (Privacy Policy)
    VimeoSome articles have Vimeo videos embedded in them. (Privacy Policy)
    PaypalThis is used for a registered author who enrolls in the HubPages Earnings program and requests to be paid via PayPal. No data is shared with Paypal unless you engage with this feature. (Privacy Policy)
    Facebook LoginYou can use this to streamline signing up for, or signing in to your Hubpages account. No data is shared with Facebook unless you engage with this feature. (Privacy Policy)
    MavenThis supports the Maven widget and search functionality. (Privacy Policy)
    Marketing
    Google AdSenseThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Google DoubleClickGoogle provides ad serving technology and runs an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Index ExchangeThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    SovrnThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Facebook AdsThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Amazon Unified Ad MarketplaceThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    AppNexusThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    OpenxThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Rubicon ProjectThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    TripleLiftThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Say MediaWe partner with Say Media to deliver ad campaigns on our sites. (Privacy Policy)
    Remarketing PixelsWe may use remarketing pixels from advertising networks such as Google AdWords, Bing Ads, and Facebook in order to advertise the HubPages Service to people that have visited our sites.
    Conversion Tracking PixelsWe may use conversion tracking pixels from advertising networks such as Google AdWords, Bing Ads, and Facebook in order to identify when an advertisement has successfully resulted in the desired action, such as signing up for the HubPages Service or publishing an article on the HubPages Service.
    Statistics
    Author Google AnalyticsThis is used to provide traffic data and reports to the authors of articles on the HubPages Service. (Privacy Policy)
    ComscoreComScore is a media measurement and analytics company providing marketing data and analytics to enterprises, media and advertising agencies, and publishers. Non-consent will result in ComScore only processing obfuscated personal data. (Privacy Policy)
    Amazon Tracking PixelSome articles display amazon products as part of the Amazon Affiliate program, this pixel provides traffic statistics for those products (Privacy Policy)