𝐖𝐚𝐫 𝐎𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 - TMR, Gally

005 - Closet

Muffled noises tried to escape my mouth once the hand got slammed down on it. I tossed around with my arms, but they soon got twisted behind my back.

"Calm down, you shuck-face." A voice I recognized as Carl's said. My eyes searched all over the place, finding myself surrounded by Carl, of course, and the Builders Peter, Hank, and Henry.

"Come on." Henry pushed me further, forcing me to walk with them.

With all my force, I bit Carl's hand. "Where are you taking me?" I screamed right before my mouth got filled with a cloth. I almost choked on it.

"We're just joking, don't worry." They laughed quietly and kept pushing me closer to the Homestead. It gave me a more relaxed feeling. Everyone else would be there too in case they tried to do very bad things.

Yet I still resisted, kicked their legs with mine, and tried to spit the cloth out. Once I kicked Peter, he elbowed me in the stomach. The air got knocked out of my lungs in just a second. I cried out in pain and bent forward.

"Dude, don't be so harsh!" Hank warned Peter. "If you wanna do this unnoticed you better not leave any marks, shank."

Peter ignored him and kept walking. My heart pounded in my chest from fear of what they would do. They pushed me into the Homestead, so we stood in the hallway. On the right was a door to where everyone slept, on the left another door to a different room, and in front of us a closet and stairs.

Carl opened the closet door and gave Henry a nod. He let go of my hands and pushed me into the closet. I stumbled over, my knees scratching against the old wood.

The door slammed closed with a loud sound, the quick footsteps of the Builders fading away. They fled. Complete darkness surrounded me.

I didn't hesitate to pull the disgusting cloth out of my mouth and look around me. An old, rusty smell filled my nose, just like dust. I coughed and tried to feel something through the dark. The soft material of clothes hung above me and the hard, yet cracking walls were around me.

I took a huge breath, feeling my chest tighten by the small space. It was like there was no oxygen in the whole closet. I banged on the door, hoping to open it, but it didn't move an inch. They locked it. The idiots.

"Hey!" I yelled. "Help!"

Someone must've been up, right? Or wake up by my screams? I continued shouting for help, but after every scream, I had to gasp for air, as if the closet only became smaller by the second. That's what it felt like, at least.

And the darkness scared me. I literally couldn't see a thing. All I knew is that at some point I pulled my knees up to my chest and leaned my head against them.

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry. I kept repeating once the tears formed. Panicking is the worst thing I can do.

But my chest started to sting as someone stabbed me. I put a hand on it and tried to scream again, but no sound was left. The tight space made me sweat, damping my forehead.

I banged on the door a few more times, trying to talk. "H-help!" My voice was shaking from fear and soon I realized I appeared to be claustrophobic. Awesome!

The horrible pain in my chest kept stinging, like a knife. Heart attack? No. Don't be crazy! My hands shook. I felt weak. How did I even let it happen? But it was four against one! But still...

My thoughts didn't make anything better. A shaky breath left my mouth, followed by another cry and soon sobs. I couldn't help myself.

I sucked up air desperately. None was left in my body, and it felt like none was left in the closet. The walls crept closer to me— I could feel my head get nauseous by it.