The Room (Part 3)

I decided not to take my chances and break the door instead. I took out the fire extinguisher that was hung near the exit and smashed it against the door, causing it to crack a little. Clearly the door was designed to protect everyone inside but in this case, I need to go out to protect myself. I took a chair instead but it didn’t work. The cracks were barely enough to shatter the glass door. 
I knew that I needed to act fast so I decided to break the glass that had a hammer in it for whatever reason. The hammer was obviously not intended to break stuff as it didn’t do the job too. In fact, the more I try to break it, it harder it gets. “He’s coming…..” the singing continues as I desperately tried to smash open the door. Then I felt it. The ground started to shake. 

Seeing many occult horror movies, I knew what’s coming up next. The real devil is coming. “Too bad….too bad…..” the singing continues. “Too late…too late…you are going to hell….” the lyrics said. I dropped to the floor, trying not to cry as the ground shakes vigorously. Growing up not believing in God or the devil or anything relating to the supernatural, I didn’t know what prayer to say to somehow protect me. 

Getting up and running to the emergency exit, I found out that it had been locked too. “There’s no use,” someone shouted. “You are dead for sure,” the person said. “ Your only option is to join us or to die,” the person said again. “Never!” I shouted, kicking the door to open it. “When he comes, nothing can stop him,” the person said again. I dropped to the ground, finally giving up. 

The ground started to crack and I could hear something growling inside. I looked forward and saw the occult section. Someone my university has books about Satanic rituals and I had never knew why until now. Then I remembered something about selling my soul to the devil to get anything that I want. I ran and took out the first book that I saw lying down on the carpet that was now covered in dusts and debris. 

Frantically, I flipped through the pages to the section where it teaches me how to sell my soul. “Join us,” the person said again clearly not knowing what my intentions are. “I will be joining you soon but not today I said,” ask I started to use a marker that was conviniently on the ground to draw a pentagram.

 Since I didn’t have any candles, I used the lighter to burn small pieces of paper which I secretly hoped would work. I opened the book again, ready to chant the necessary mantra needed to summon a devil. As I was about to read it, I could see long fingers and claws coming out of ground. 

Taking Latin classes really helped me as I chanted everything as perfectly as possible. I didn’t know which devil that I summoned but the ground near me started shaking as what I summoned started to make its appearance. “What is it that you want,” it said. “I want to sell my soul,” I said calmly. 

To be continued…


3 thoughts on “The Room (Part 3)

  1. Exactly the story that we need. I’m tired of all the pointless horror stories of people escaping. This one is different. When you think it’s over, it isn’t. I don’t think “I” will sell their soul


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