The Placard On The Door

I walked through the door. I could feel in my bones how badly I didn’t want to be there. The floor beneath me was hard and damp. Concrete, maybe. I couldn’t really see it. I knew I was in a hallway, though. It was long and dark except three lights at the end, one on the right and two on the left. Under each light there was a large door. Dark. Wood. Maybe metal. It was hard to tell from the distance I was standing. As I moved closer all I could hear were my own footsteps and the sound of my heart pounding in my ear. The first door was on the left. I was about halfway to it when I heard something. I paused to drink it in. Nope. Nothing. I continued moving forward. Wait. There it was again. It was a scream. I was almost to the door. As I approached I noticed a very small, metal placard attached high on the giant metal door. 'Self-loathing' read the placard on the door. The handle was large, round, and level with my head. I turned it and pushed the heavy door open.

Immediately my ears were stung by a piercing scream. The sight before my eyes left me horrified. It was me! Naked. And chained to what looked like a metal surgical table with the head tilted upward. There was something stuffed in my mouth. Tiny words had been carved all over my body. They were too small to read from where I was standing and there was no way I was moving any closer. My skin was tainted with sweat and blood. Behind me stood five large, black, hooded creatures. Enormous black beaks protruded from faces I could not see. With their frightening beaks they pecked at my already brutally mangled body. Most of my hair had been plucked out, leaving my skull visible in many places.

The demon creatures used razor sharp nails to carve even more words into my violated body. “Cunt,” they hissed. “Bitch.” “Fat pig.” They snickered, “No one loves you, you worthless whore.” With their heads tilted back they cackled. Their games continuing as I closed the door. When I heard it latch behind me, I leaned against the door and slid to the floor. Then, cried. I sobbed. Tears and mucus covered my face as I thought about how much I fucking hate this part. Why can’t I just love myself? I stood and brushed off my now wet ass. I had to keep moving.

I walked a little further down the hall to another door on the right. It was identical to the one before it. 'Guilt', read the placard on the door. I turned the knob and pushed. There, again, I saw myself naked. Except, this time I was hanging up-side-down from chains in the ceiling. My face was covered in blood pouring from a laceration in my neck. My eyelids moved oh so slowly, the only sign of life. To the left of my body stood what looked like an old transfusion machine. They were transfusing my own blood back into my body while they drained me. Them. The same dark, beaked creatures stood looming over the gruesome scene. Again, they had covered my body in tiny words. “Confess your sins,” they laughed. “It’s your fault. Tell us it’s your fault,” one growled. As I watched me try to open my mouth I realized the creatures had cut out my tongue. I slammed the door shut behind me.

I just couldn’t take anymore. But, I knew I had to keep going. There was still one more. I moved diagonally further down the hallway to the third door. This one was the same as the others yet a little different. It was more agleam. As I moved closer I began to hear something. “Come in,” hissed a voice menacingly from beyond. 'Death', read the placard on the door. No. This room I will never enter. No matter how close I come, I won’t enter. Just then a light blazed to my right. It was a door. A door in the darkness was opening. I walked through and left them. Them – The dungeons. The dark places. The recesses of my mind.