The hallway awaits.
It beckons.
It calls.
Doors line either side.
Shrill cries fill the air.
Cold creeps into my bones.
Then silence descends.
I peek into the first room.
Empty wheelchairs face me.
Except for one.
It turns, rolls to me,
then stops.
I freeze.
The lights flash.
A table appears at the far wall.
A bright surgical light hangs above.
The men in white coats face me.
I open my mouth to scream.
I’m strapped to the table.
The men in white peer at me.
A drill whirls next to my ear.
I struggle against the thick straps.
The room goes black.
THE DEAD GAME 
SUSANNE LEIST 