The Nameless Town

There was an eerie silence across the town. The lapping of the water against the rocks in the over-sized pond seemed dulled, as if the night sky cast a blanket across the landscape which muffled even the most violent of noises so they'd become softer and more bearable. The sparrows perched on tree branches were deadly silent, watching and waiting for something to happen in the near empty town square.

It was as I approached the somber buildings that I felt a sense of creeping nervousness. The windows of shop fronts were hidden into the darkness: shying away from the fate that had befallen the town. Even the cobbled floor was depressive somehow: with every step I took on the hard ground it would sigh deeply and warn me not to carry on.

I glanced around the small town square looking for a place to stay. There were only shops. I frowned as I saw that each shop front supported the same 'CLOSED' sign. It was the middle of the day. Even the grocers wasn't open.

I scanned the square again, this time looking for someone to talk to about directions. I spotted an elderly woman standing next to the off license. Her clothes were tattered and torn, bits of dirty flesh showing on her arms and legs. I warily walked up to her, cautious in case she wasn't the friendly woman I was hoping for.

"Excuse me," I asked, my voice dry. "Do you know where the nearest hotel is?" She looked up at me with wide tear-filled eyes. She shook her head once before lowering her gaze to her filthy shoes. Even the briefest of looks at her face had shown me how much pain the woman was in: she was covered in cuts and bruises, some of them still oozing blood, and others that had clearly been there for days.

I wanted to help the woman, but I felt repelled by her. In all honesty she scared me. I backed away from her slowly, nervousness chewing away at my stomach. I had been in this town all of five minutes and I already felt ready to vomit.

I crept away from the woman to find an old park bench. I sat down and pulled my map from my backpack. I scanned the green and blue paper until I found the road I had taken: 'Nothing Pass'. I almost laughed at the irony: it felt as though I was in nowhere. My eyes followed the road across the stretch of colorful paper, twisting and turning through various shades of the rainbow. I found the spot where I should've been, but on the map it was shown by a small clump of trees. I frowned. Had I taken a wrong turn?

I studied the map again, seeing no towns for at least thirty miles around the small woods that I was theoretically sitting in. Perhaps this town was so unimportant and unsightly that it was not considered worthy of note.

After staring at the map and not finding anything that resembled a town, I gave up and folded it back into my bag. I stood; more determined this time to find a place to stay. The town square was just as empty as it was earlier; the old woman was still standing by the off license, but I noticed a small crowd of people stood almost out of eyesight.

I walked towards the group, slowly at first, but with every step I took a sense of urgency took over my body. I began to run. Faster and faster; fear gripping my insides. I was sprinting, powering with all my might away from the invisible force that was chasing me down the street. I felt the breath being taken from my lungs: forcefully dragged out of me. My head was spinning. I had to stop; I was running too fast for my body to cope. I was dying on my own two feet. The ground was ruthlessly attacking my feet with every step. The cobbles hard and unforgiving against my aching feet. I felt my eyes blur out, but I was still running. I was sprinting for my life down the street towards an ever distant group of people.

Eventually my feet began to slow down. I was gaining control over my body again. But it was too late. I felt my head rush one more time before I fell to the floor, collapsing in a heap. I was trying desperately to gain my breath back when I felt my body begin to shut itself down. As I lay on the floor, the old woman in the town square was crying softly. Tears of pain and resent streaming down her eyes.

* * *

The smell that woke me was enough to knock me out all over again. It was vile. I could feel it wind down my nostrils into my throat and poison my lungs. I could taste it too, like dirty hands gripping my tongue. It was the smell of death.

There was pain too. My whole body ached, and my wrists and ankles stung. I opened my eyes to see the cause of the pain. I was tied up. My wrists were strung up above my head, and my ankles were tied together, which explained the stinging. I tried to remember how I got to where I was, but I couldn't. I could recall running, collapsing and then... nothing. Absolutely nothing.

The room around me was dark, although I could just about make out shapes of wooden furniture. I guessed I was in a basement by the amount of light and the dirty floor. The furniture all looked very poorly made, and it was barely being held together. Upon one of the grimy tabletops there was what appeared to be a surgical kit: made up of scalpels, scissors and different medical instruments. None of which were anywhere near clean.

I opened my mouth and tried to beg for help, but ended up swallowing a mouthful of dust. I coughed violently, causing my body to ache even more with every spluttering breath I had.

"Be quiet." A voice said from behind me. If I had been standing up I would've fallen over from the shock. "I said be quiet." The person snapped their fingers and my coughing stopped immediately. I heard their footsteps as they walked in front of me.

It was a man, perhaps of about forty years of age. His skin was by far the most shocking part of his body: absolutely bright white. He looked like he had never seen daylight, never had the pleasure of the sun beating down upon the back of his neck. His clothes, too, were odd. He wore a suit (that I imagine was black before the dust of our surroundings had gotten to it) which looked to have been extremely expensive. He looked me over, as if examining me. I felt myself praying not to be some sort of sick minded experiment. I didn't want to die, especially not like that.

"What do you want from me?" I said, my voice hoarse with the dust I had inhaled.

"You are not welcome here." He replied.

I coughed once, trying to get rid of the contaminates I had swallowed. "Where am I?"

"This town has no name. We used to, but not since your kind destroyed it."

My kind? "Wh... What do you mean?"

"That is enough questions." He snapped his fingers and I felt my lips press themselves together. It was like superglue had been applied, and it was impossible for me to move my lips even a millimetre apart. I screamed against the bond, but the man just laughed at me before calling out.

"Children! It's time, the other one is dying. It's time! Come on my dears." He shouted out behind me. I heard laughing coming from a corridor located behind my hanging place. I felt fear churning at my stomach. What was going on?

Three children appeared in front of me. Two girls and a boy. Each about ten years of age, and all as pale as the man that I now guessed to be their father. The man whispered something in the taller of the girl's ear before leaving the room. The children smiled at each other, and turned towards the table containing the medical kit. I felt a tear roll down my cheek as I knew what was going to happen next.

The children each picked up an instrument and began tearing away at my flesh. I screamed as pain and fear wrenched through my body. My lips bled as I tore the bond that held them together apart; my vocal cords burning as I shouted out in agony. The children poked at me. They laughed as they injured me, throwing insults at me. I cried and screamed until I could cry and scream no more. But still they carried on, with each strike of my skin causing more fear in my fragile body.

When they finally stopped, I thought I was dead. The pain I felt was eating away at my body. I didn't know agony as ferocious as this existed. It was all I could think about: even when I shut my eyes I could see red, reminding me of what had happened to me.

I was weaker than I had ever been by the time the man walked back in. The children had long ago left me, shouting how their work was done.

"It hurts doesn't it? The pain?" The man said to me. I had no strength to answer. "Yes, I am well aware how much it does. You feel like you want to die am I right? You see your kind once did that to me and my beautiful children. Not before they ripped apart my town, taking everything from it and leaving it to rot. Tourists!" He spat on the floor.

"You found this town, oh yes. And for a while it was great. So beautiful. But then it went down hill, and you got up and left, not bothering to save us from the poverty. And let's not forget Mr. Psycho. His 'guardians' warned us he was crazy, didn't do much to stop him though. Out on a day trip, finally getting to live his life before he died. But not without taking me and my family with him. Killed us all, but me and my babies are still here. And you shall feel what you did to us! You and your kind!" He struck me across the cheek, but I was accustomed to the pain by now. "You tore us apart! You destroy everything that was ever great!" He punched me in the stomach. "And now you will be sorry."

He began to untie my bindings, but I was too weak to even attempt an escape. He threw me over his shoulder and carried me out of the basement and into the town square. It was empty. The old woman was gone.

He stood me up in the same spot that the woman once stood, and I felt myself rooted. I was not able to even move my legs. He laughed bitterly before returning the way he had come, and all I could do was stare after him.

Day in and day out I stood there, staring after where the man had come from. Each morning his children would appear beside me with their bag of tools and poke and pull at me so I was reminded of the pain they were caused by that Psycho. So I could remember why I was standing here, why I had suffered and what we had done to this town.

And they would leave me bleeding so as when the next tourist came, I would be there to strike fear into their stomachs. They would feel the nervousness the man and his family had felt before they were torn apart, and it would grow 'til their bodies gave out as they ran towards a false sense of hope. Then they would replace me and I would finally be allowed to die.