Okay, I don’t even know where to begin. This is the sick love-child of not knowing what to write and writing whatever came to mind. This is an odd tale and interpretation has been left up to you, so take it as you will.
Lost. Isn’t that all we ever are?
Some answer with no, others with yes. You know what James thought right about then?
‘Yes, how about a fucking map?’
A map was definitely something he needed. A map that explained how he could get his ass out of there.
How, in God’s name, had he ended up here? Of all the places he could have ended up, he had to end up here. What the hell did he do to deserve this? What the hell, indeed.
Up ahead stood an ominous stone archway, an engraving on top read:
‘Welcome to Hell, fuckers.’
Classy, he thought. What the hell happened last night? James delved into his mind, he searched for some fragment of a memory. He had to remember something, anything at all.
For all his efforts, he couldn’t uncover anything.
James assured himself it was just another sick joke, that he had drank too much last night and his mates had taken advantage of his intoxicated state. He regretted going out with those bastards. Some messed up shit always happened when he went out with them.
‘Real bloody funny,’ he called. ‘Where am I? Some back-alley haunted house?’
No one returned his call.
‘Fine,’ he said, ‘I don’t need you bastards anyway, I can find my own way out.’
‘You say something, son?’ A voice from below.
‘Yeah, I said…’ the words trailed off. How hadn’t he notice an old guy sitting at his feet? More importantly, why the fuck was there an old guy sitting at his feet? James jumped back in shock.
‘What the hell were you doing down there?’ He asked.
‘Oh? Hmm. Well, it seems we have arrived then,’ he said. His voice a harsh wheeze, as if his lungs had been turned to ashes, in fact, it was quite likely they had—a trait most long-term smokers shared.
‘Arrived? That isn’t some sick, sexual innuendo is it?’
‘Take it as you will, son,’ he said, with a gesture towards James’ crotch. He rose with a smile on his saggy, old face and hobbled towards the archway. ‘Welcome to hell, fucker,’ he called from over his shoulder.