Playground of Horrors

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The older man holds his finger up to his lips telling him to be silent. Letting him know speaking will not help when he is in his house of horrors laying in a wooden coffin tied up in the dark.

He doesn't attempt to scream or yell knowing the fatal consequences of such. Besides who would hear him down below under the house which is sound proof? No one ever hears the screams him or the others have given. No one has ever heard the gut wrenching screams of the murders committed.

He was led to believe at nine years old he was a good man he could trust. He believed him and followed him to his car. He got in forgetting about his mom instructing him not to talk to strangers but surely he wasn't a bad man. He had to be a good man with the offer to take him to his house full of fun.

"Plenty of kids your age live with me. You can play all day and night." he had said and he foolishly believed.

He was older, he was in his thirties acting like a child himself. He wasn't completely sane but how could he have known by first appearance what a monster he truly was promising him fun?

After all he was growing up in a home without a father and a mother that was barely around. He was forced as the big brother to watch his five younger siblings, a job too much for a nine year old.

The man was drawn to him seeing the sadness in his eyes and he knew right away he would fit perfect in his playground for kids. Boys and girls were all welcome. He enjoyed giving them a place to be kids but once they were no more fun and disobeyed his rules they were done.

He has a sick sense of what normal and fun is. He thinks he's doing good in a world for the kids to give them a chance to be happy and he doesn't see anything wrong with killing them later on.

Well technically he isn't doing the killing. He isn't touching them. He is simply pinning them against one another and watching to see who survives.

He promises the winner the chance to leave this hell forever but no one knows if that promise is met. No one who has won through the years have come to save them and shut this deadly playground down.

"Today is the day Cameron." he whispers, reaching down and wiping the tear away he didn't know he was shedding.

For fifteen he is underweight and lacks sunlight displaying a pale white complexion. His black hair dull and falling out from malnourishment. He used to be his favorite and was fed plenty before he almost escaped out the front door. Now he's been waiting for the day he could watch him killed because there is no chance he will survive the one he has set to fight against him.

"Give me five minutes and the game will begin." he grins wide, the same sinister smile he always wears sending a chill down his back.

He's a monster. He's insane but not a killer. He has the kids kill because getting his hands bloody is not something he chooses to do. He's a sick man, demented and it's surprising no one has discovered his sick pleasure located down below.

He shuts the coffin leaving him claustrophobic and in the dark. Nothing to look at. Nothing to see as he wastes little time beginning to try and loosen the knot he tied his hands together in.

He knows what happens. He knows the familiar routine of his games that involve the victim trapped in the coffin before he turns the lights on and releases the rival  player to kill him.

He is the prey and they are the predator ready to kill him because just like he had been brainwashed to believe this is a game of life or death the rest have too. You don't want to be on the losing end because unlike what he had told him before about, this is just pretend, he knows now people don't come back from the dead. Once you are killed you will not be coming back to life. There is no starting over. No second chance. There are no more games. No more playground when your dead and finally free from here but he doesn't want to leave in death. He wants to escape like he almost did a while ago. He wants him to have to pay for what he's been doing to all of them for years.

The lights turn on, he can see through the small cracks in the coffin and the buzzing sound. For an underground playground of death the place is big. An actual playground stands spread out with tunnels and slides. A Merry-go-round, swings and hiding spots galore. Also makeshift walkways up above and to the left of the coffin, he is in on the side of the wall near the large door he just exited, are the cells the other kids are residing in at the moment.

Fifteen cells, his lucky number, is where he keeps them locked in until he decides to let them out. Usually they come out during the day if well behaved then he pushes the button in the main house level where he has a room of televisions and controls for down below. He never stays down there to watch out of fear they will rebell against him though he has them brainwashed well enough. You can never be too careful now can you?

They live and breathe killing. They even eat those they kill, little do they know. Cameron knows the truth though and he isn't willing to play along. He wants to leave. He wants to leave with the others but doing so would be hard when the button is pushed and he hears a cell door open.

"Damn it." he curses well aware the knot is too tight and he has to run. He has to get out of this coffin before it's too late.

Movement of feet in his direction rushes him to lift his hands up and push the coffin open but no such luck does it open. He pinned something on top making it harder to escape and he knows he has to attack the person when they open it themselves.

Heart pounding. Thoughts scattered and racing as he thinks of a plan. He doesn't want to kill again like he has numerous times before. He only wants to leave but does not leaving involve killing one last time?

Before he can come up with an answer the prying begins of opening the coffin by the one outside. He tries to stay calm and ready to get out the moment the coffin is opened. Screams echoing, yelling of the others in their cells cheering on to watch the games begin.

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