Welcome to the very first Miscellaneous Monday!! Well I’m excited. Today’s writing shall be about something random, a good way to start the week I think.
I had a random phrase pop into my head today: out of the woodwork. It basically means when something comes out into the open from a concealed place.
So here goes! And in something I don’t usually do: first person point of view *GASP*
Out of the Woodwork
I’ve been in here for hours.
The shack was cold, wet and damp. To say it was uncomfortable would be like saying an inferno is warm. There weren’t any lights, and the smell of stagnant water and algae blooms filled my nostrils.
“Hello?!” I called again. It was all I could do, I was tied to a chair with an old rope that made my skin itch and burn as I moved.
Wood creaked, moaning as the wind pushed against it and the earth bellow shifted. The shack couldn’t be that large, only a few feet in each direction from where I was bound I had guessed.
Why am I here? Where was I last?
I couldn’t remember, but my situation looked grim to say the least.
The chill began to leave my bones.
Morning is coming. The thought brought some hope, though I couldn’t decide why. Perhaps it would mean I could see my surroundings, not that being able to see would save me. I don’t think I’ve missed the sense of sight more in any time in my life.
Day break came, dim light filtered through the cracks between wooden planks. The shack was as I had envisioned it: bare. There was nothing unique or different about this isolated wooden room, and that’s what scared me.
I tried screaming for help again, allowing my voice to grow louder and louder in volume until the shack shook. The vibration frightened me, I stopped and allowed the silence to fill me again.
That’s when I heard it. scratch I listened carefully. scratch scamper scratch
“Hello?” I called desperately hoping someone had found me, but I knew within myself that this was not someone as much as something.
scamper scratch scratch scamperThe noises were getting louder, and more frequent. They scared me.
scamper scratch scratch scamper I saw something move, or maybe a few somethings move. scamper scratch scratch scamper “Bugs!” I exclaimed aloud as I realized what the intruders were.
I was relieved, for a moment. Until hundred of them covered the walls, all coming out of the woodwork at the same time. They crawled over each other, their sizes and shapes blurring into one mass of convoluting life.
The noise was unbearable, akin to the intensity of a waterfall, but sharp and grinding.
What if they don’t stay on the walls? I wondered too late as a blanket of exoskeletal creatures fell upon and covered me. The crawled all over me and I tried to scream, bad idea: they got in my mouth.
I thrashed about on my chair as the insects covered every part of me, threatening to smother me whilst trying to get inside me.
The chair toppled, my head hit the floor, and there was no bugs.
I heard a hissing and looked up expecting to be attacked by reptiles, but instead saw a black pipe. It was emitting an odd smelling gas.
Hallucinogenics? I slipped into unconsciousness.
Well I hope you enjoyed! One thing I learnt was that whilst writing from first person point of view, you can tap into the characters emotion a lot easier than in third person.
Until next time, Anti-Greetings!
— D. Rhys Graham