The Last Winter

Saturday: To Play God (10)

Wesley
sssssssssssssssss

Chains and hooks hang from the ceiling. Various saws and machinery make up the interior. This isn't an innocent barn. Judging by the blades, it could be a wood workshop, or something even more disturbing--a butchery place. However, everything has gone to waste, lying in dust. Just like the lodge, this place hasn't been touched in years.

I move around, silent as a mouse. If I wasn't cautious before, I definitely am now, considering the disturbing number of lethal weapons around here.

I find myself wandering through a doorway. The space inside has large glass windows that look into another room past the opposite wall. However, I can only make out silhouettes of machinery. I'll have to enter through a second door to see what's really inside.

As I'm stepping toward the next door, I notice some sort of dashboard by the windows, overlooking the view. There are several dials and switches, and two big levers occupy the middle of the control station.

Then everything happens all at once: the whir of electricity, the lights blare on, the door I had just gone through shuts, and a screen above it reads in terrible red letters LOCKED, and some kind of God-awful record is playing over the intercom through an old speaker in a corner of the room.

Tiptoe by the window
By the window, that is where I'll be
Come tiptoe through the tulips with me

I pull on the door handles of both the front and the back doors, but they don't budge. Some kind of security system is locking them in place.

And the song blares on:

Oh, tiptoe by the garden
By the garden of the willow tree
Come tiptoe through the tulips with me

Something spurs to life in the room beyond the windows, something that sounds like a giant electric saw.

The room is still dark, so I can't see what exactly is churning. I can just barely see past my own reflection thanks to the blinding lights inside this control station.

Then I hear someone scream.

The record player screeches to a halt, and then a strange voice comes over the intercom:

"So nice of you to join us."

It's deep--too deep. They must be using some sort of a voice-altering device.

"Let's play a game, shall we?"

I stiffen, my heart beating faster. What's happening? Is this person actually talking to me? Are they watching me right now? What's going on? Where's Dad?

With a deafening echo, the lights flick on inside the next room.

Now I know who screamed.

My sister is tied up with rope, hanging upside down by her feet from the ceiling. Wild-eyed, she is desperately struggling against her constraints. How the heck did she end up here? Beside her is Eugena, but she is motionless--probably knocked unconscious. Sitting right below them is a huge meat grinder, roaring with a ravenous hunger for human flesh.

Della and Eugena are only twelve feet from certain death.

"DELLA!" I shout, slamming my fists against the glass.

Somehow, she hears the thuds, and when she sees me, she screams again.

"WESLEY! WESLEY, HELP ME!"

"Oh, dear. It looks like they are in a bit of a pickle," the deep voice rolls over the speaker again.

I freeze, holding my breath.