Oneshot poems and stories

Cure: a short horror story

The doors opened and people flooded out. None of them seemed to vary in age at all, they all seemed to be a solid eighteen years of age. Their slightly translucent pale white skin was stark against the deep charcoal of their black hair. The fabric they wore was an ill fit for the outside conditions but they didn't know that. And they couldn't feel it either, they acted as though they could, however. They all shivered in the face of an intense blizzard, the wind throwing up their hair, strands getting caught on each other's faces and into their own mouths.

Suddenly the flurries stopped and their shaking lessened, their acting had proven to be successful as they turned back to the door they just came through they collectively looked into the eyes of a mildly deranged man, their emotionless red eyes tracked him as he walked closer.

"Congratulations! With the completion of that test you have all been approved to be re-introduced to society, of course, we have set up job offerings for everyone in the program so that our little experiment will not interfere with the way you live for the rest of your now decidedly short lives" His caramel hair stuck up in all directions as he gestured animatedly, excited by their reaction to the extreme cold. "Come, we have prepared clothes suitable for your exit from the program" he lifted his hand and pointed back to the door and out of the simulation chamber.

The hallways were just as sterile as they had been for the past three years the group had been present. Though the hallways were the only thing except for a select few rooms that were so clean. The rest had tiles crusted with the rusty color of dried blood, a mild urine scent wafted from some of the even lesser cleaned rooms and closets, and the white dried foam that came from poison induced vomit was often to be found on walls where a 'participant' had leaned against the wall to support themselves as their bodies weakened due to the effects of overdose.

They filed into the largest room in the compound and lined up along evenly placed medical tables. Several piles of clothes had been placed in front of them along with a small suitcase leaned against each table. There were a couple of bags in which the outfits were meant to be placed in to keep the outfits organized, and like expected they all put the outfits in their bags and stacked them into their assigned suitcase. They each left one outfit out of their baggage to change into in preparation for their departure.

There were no walls separating the oddly alike 'participants' but they all stripped out of their thin medical shifts and pulled the new, more societally functional clothing on.

Once they were finished they were once again escorted through the maze of hallways, until they stopped at another set of dual doors. These ones were class and the room they were attached to looked like any other office building, complete with awkward music and tan and vermillion chairs.

The group looked back once more, nodded their heads collectively, and then walked through the giant doors, each of them looking at the instructions written on the piece of paper for them. They were going to be split up, no longer could they vaguely lean upon each other for support.

The area outside the compound was filled with people, there were stores all around, it was like a mall, the perfect place to hide something, in plain sight nobody thinks that experimentation would be going on in such a filled place, but the hustle and bustle of the crowd perfectly masked the faint screaming from below the squares surface, the hush of the fountain filling in the voices during the deep hours of the night when the area was closed to visitors.

A couple of 'participants' could be seen licking their glossy crimson lips before catching themselves and sucking their tounges back into their mouths as if it had never happened. Then they all dispersed going to various airports that would lead them all over the world, a 'particpant' or sixteen on every continent.

Everything was fine until a couple of months later. Every country was flooded with missing persons and murder reports. Every murder scene was graphic, blood was strewn about, veins and arteries being of very few things that actually indicated that what they found had ever been human. There was never any bodies per se, just the outline made in carefully extracted blood vessels which perfectly connected a heart.

The consistency of such a murder was the only way the authorities knew that they were connected. There were very few that could do such a thing...very few ordinary people... but ordinary people are not the ones who were experimented on not so long ago under the lively square in a small town in America.

When the experimenters read the newspaper or their social media pages the next day and were presented with the happenings, they all knew one thing, they had accidentally unleashed hell upon the world. Everyone, everyone was doomed.

As if a bell had gone off, all of the dispersed 'participants' looked up from their respective prey and had one thought, 'They think they cured us, think we don't remember, but we do, its hard to forget, the oh so delicious taste of human flesh'.

A.N. okay so I could really use some opinions on this because it is something that I wrote for the short narrative project in American literature, and I need to hand it in so like any critiques and stuff (as long as it's not super harsh because I'm sensitive) would be super helpful.