SuAside - Locked in

[Laraqua]

One of the lights in the men's toilets flickered, sending shadows skittering across the unusual amount of graffiti that sprawled across the pale blue walls. The graffiti was written in a dark blue texta, across the walls, the ceiling. The floor was covered in a fine film of dirty water that had spilled from the sinks. Someone had filled the drains with a substance that had long since hardened. That very same person was likely responsible for turning the taps on. The dry chemical smell that permeated the toilet was familiar and vaguely unsettling. The barely legible scrawl that covered the walls contained a few bits and pieces that caught his eye as he rushed into the toilets:

uncoiling above us ... never, ever look up or you might fall in ... couldn't stand listening to the rain any longer ... can't help ourselves ... please phone 39284023859023859

He ran with his stomachs burbling, mindful of the smell but unable to change tactics and head for a different toilets, and rushed into one of the stalls, seeing something written on the back wall, however, in larger lettering then what was on the rest of the walls. Only some of what is written can be seen before he had turned and his butt was on the seat, the toilet door swinging shut.

"...did you put it, Carson? ...is it hidden?"

[DSIGFUSS]

Ronald Perry was very nervous. He had been in the children's sing-a-long game for a while now and he still got butterflies before the start of every show. Nerves, on top of the Quarter Pounder with cheese he scarfed back on the ride over, sent him dashing for the can. Sweat beaded down Ronald's forehead.

Why am I so nervous?

Children was the answer to Ronald's question. Kids are brutal. If you bomb in front of an adult audience, they are at least somewhat forgiving. They'll clap just to get you off the stage. Kids on the other hand were terrifying. You haven't felt fear unless you've been rushed by an angry mob of children, bored to tears by your terrible stage presence of semi inspirational material. Sick kids were even worse, and contagious for that matter.

A chill runs down Ronald's spine. He opens his back pack and pulls out his CD walkman. He puts in his copy of "The Mini-pops" and sits back on the toilet to finish his dirty work. Ronald then picks up his Banjo and begins to play along, practicing his routine.

Oh Mickey you're so fine... You're so fine you blow my mind. Hey Mickey....Hey Mickey!
Oh Mickey you're so fine... You're so fine you blow my mind. Hey Mickey....Hey Mickey!

So I know you're really sick and you're feeling really down.
You think its all a bore, so all you do is frown.
But hear me boys and girls, it's all turning around.

Have you met my pal Micky?.....

Ronald fumbles with his crazy hand puppet Micky...trying to get it on his hand before he continues with the rest of his song.



He's so cool Micky! Cool Mickey. He loves you all Micky........

[Laraqua]

Time passes as he struggles to take control of his bowels.

[DSIGFUSS]

Ronald finishes up his practice routine, while he waits on the can.

Aren't you glad you........ ennnnnnnnnngh........ had the chance to meet all these great kids Micky?

Ronald struggles on the toilet, but continues his routine through it.



Not really Ronald. My tummy hurts. I think I ate to much hospital pudding.

Mickey holds his tummy with his cute little puppet arms and groans

Ohhhhhhhhh!

Wait for laugh........
Then I guess you won't have any room for candy eh Micky? I guess we'll have to give it all away to these awesome kids.....

Micky groans in dissapointment and covers his eyes.

Nooooooo!

Blah Blah Blah..... Wait for cheers..... Blah Blah Blah.... Pass out candy......

Good bye boys and Girls. Have a..... ennnnnnnnngh.......wonderful day!

Perfect!"

Ronald finishes his business on the toilet. He looks at his watch and remembers he didn't bring one. Ronald doesn't like to think about time when visiting children with very little of it left. He gets up and puts Micky The Mouth back in his back pack. It feels like he's been in the bathroom stall for a while now, but whatever happened, it worked. Ronald's confidence had returned and he was gonna knock em dead.

Ronald washes his hands and marches out into the hall, whistling his favorite Mini Pops tune and ready to put on a show those kids will never forget.

[Laraqua]

The sink spews forth chunks of a white slime but hemanages to yank his hands out of the way before very much of it hits. He grasps the door knob and turns it but the door is stuck fast, rattling in its frame as he tries to open it. The wood seems warped and buckled, the hinges brown with rust, as though it had spent a lot of time in the damp. The most interesting thing is the door knob, the orange rust staining the wood as though moisture had carried it down the length of it in rivulets. He was sure the door didn't look like this beforehand.

(Feel free to have him wipe his hands clean on the towellettes before the attempt on the door - I just figured I'd give him the bad news now)

[DSIGFUSS]

"What the?"

Ronald quickly wipes his hands and stares at the warped door.

How long was I in there?

He tries the door a second time, putting his shoulder into it.

Hey! Anybody out there?

[Laraqua]

The door trembles somewhat. It will need a heavier blow than that to slam it open and there would, of course, be a risk of bruising his shoulder if he didn't succeed. There is no response to his pleas.

[DSIGFUSS]

Ronald pounds his fists on the door.

Hey! What the hell man!

Ronald looks around the room again. What a pig stye. Someone should call the janitor. Ronald gets down on his knees, gagging from the filth, and prays there's a crack between the door and the floor.

[Laraqua]

The crack is too narrow to see through.

[DSIGFUSS]

Ronald slips and sits in the murkey water. He sobs quietly to himself, before pulling a sucker from one of his many secret pouches.

Orange? Ohhhhh! Just my luck!

Ronald pops the sucker in his mouth. He starts to look around the room once again. Something is very wrong here.
The rust on the doors has to be new. The warped wood too. Ronald was nearly positive he had been in this bathroom before, going through a similar pre-performance ritual. Not that long ago either. He was sure. This place looked like it had been unkept for years, and then suddenly crapped on.

What the hell? Nobody let's a hospital get like this.

Ronalds heart starts to race. He pulls himself off the muddy floor and starts to check out the grafitti on the walls again.

[Laraqua]

The graffitti has faded and run until a point almost illegible for Ronald to read. It is only when he reaches the stall he had been sitting on, can he read any of the words: Don't you think you should try to get moving? Not all of your audience are so adoring.

As his eyes traced over the last few words, a thud sounds in the metallic confines of the ventilation shaft overhead, unleashing a little bit of ash from the odd covering that sits above the grille.

[DSIGFUSS]

Ronald takes a second glance at the message on the wall and shakes his head in disbelief. Then he looks at the ash on the floor and panics.

Oh Shitaki mushrooms!

Ronald scratches his arms, sure that he's dreaming. Then he does what he always does in his nightmares. He runs. Ronald darts over to the sink and then charges the old door, kicking it with his last step, hoping to drive through it to the other side and to safety.

[Laraqua]

The door barelytrembles beneath the blow. The action merely causes his toes to ache. If there were a method to kicking open doors, he sure didn't know it.

[DSIGFUSS]

Ronald hip hops on one foot and hold his toe.

Cra-cker Jacks!

He experiences a moment of extreme panic and calls at the top of his lungs for...

HELP!

He then runs back to the bathroom stall with the graffitti on it. He quickly reads it again and then opens all the other stalls in sequence one after the other.

You got anything else you want to tell me you crazy dream demon?

Ronald chuckles madly to himself and thinks back to his Dungeons and Dragons days back in highschool.

I wonder how many xp's your worth?

[Laraqua]

There is a weird inhuman sound from above, a mixture of dry cough, a chuckle and an animal's clucking. Then the ventilation grille drops from above, slamming down mere inches from where Ronald stands.

[DSIGFUSS]

By dsigfuss at 2007-07-06
To " H - E - Double Hockey sticks" with you pal! This isn't funny! I'm getting outta here!

Ronald reaches into his backpack and pulls out Mickey the Mouth. He puts him on and then re-zips his back pack.



Looks like we're in some pretty crazy shit there Ronald.

Mickey the mouth is soft and Ronald hopes he will cushion the beating his shoulder is about to take.

Hey buddy. What do you think you're doing?

Ronald charges the door screaming at the top of his lungs. .

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHGH!

When he hits, Ronald thrusts Micky in front of his shoulder and puts eveything he has into it.

Uhhhh!

[Laraqua]

The door slams open so hard it thuds against the wall and then comes back against him but he's already through it and still moving.

[DSIGFUSS]

Ronald stumbles into the hall with a triumphant yelp.

Nice work Micky!

He quickly gets to his feet and flips the bathroom the bird.

Ha! Take that evil man in the ceiling!

The fear quickly returns. Standing there with his puppet Micky, Ronald turns from side to side down the hospital halls, praying everything was back to normal. He still had a show to do after all.

Maybe that was just the pre show jitters. Or some bad tuna. I shoulda never ordered Sushi in an Italian restaurant. Stupid!

[Laraqua]

At first, Ronald can see nothing in the gloom - the only light being the fluorescent strips in the toilets he has just come from. As his eyes adjust, he realises two things: the hospital is empty and that the hospital is also quite dirty. Ash floats in the air, clinging to the moist surfaces and then moving up and off, as though being blown about by an unfelt breeze. It's very cold and very wet.

Nearby, a shopping bag has been dropped. The word: BORDERS is clearly seen on its side, the books having tumbled out. A jumper sits folded up on the floor by a vending machine - the glass cracked and speckled by a dark, wet substance. He can hear low voices coming from somewhere else that he could follow.

He can also hear the sharp crash of glass breaking and snapping downstairs.

And that's when he realises the other main thing. The hospital is silent but for those sounds. There are no footsteps, no machines clacking, no voices over the intercom, no conversations, no weeping, no cars roaring by outside. If not for the chemical scent that hospital always seemed to bear, it was almost as though he were not inside one at all.

[DSIGFUSS]

Ronald stands there with his puppet in complete disbelief. His breathing starts to get heavy as the nightmare starts to sink in. Ronald trembles for a long moment before the whole concept of the bathroom and getting away from that voice forces him down the hall. He slowly creeps towards the low voices, pressing himself up against the wall. Better the voices than the glass. Before long, Ronald is weeping.