Sins Loom: The Unwilling Weaver

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The sound of the heart rate monitor echoed through the quiet room. The only other sounds being some shallow breathing coming from the hospital bed, and muffled talking coming from beyond the room. Ugh, I must’ve blacked out for a second, where am I? A woman in a nurse’s outfit rubs her head, sitting up in the chair she found herself in. I must’ve been checking in on this patient. She looks over to the patient to see that they’re asleep. Seems like I’m alone in here. Glad no one came in to find me sleeping on the job.

Getting up, she walks over to the patient, checking in on them. Her heartrate seems stable, but her breathings a little shallow. I should ask her if she’s having any difficulties breathing when she wakes up. But before I do that... She walks over to the bed side table where all of the patient's things are, noticing a half-eaten apple, a knife and a photo. It wouldn’t hurt to take a look at what you brought with you. She looks at the family photo, her eyes focusing on a beautiful gold chain necklace. What a lovely necklace. I can’t help but notice that you’re not wearing it right now. Where would it be?

She tries to open the drawer, but it jams in place, only opening enough for her to be able to reach in, but not being able to see what’s inside. Fucking hell. Guess I’ll just have to feel around to see what’s in there

Squeezing her right hand in, she feels around, searching for the necklace. A pen... reading glasses... no, where is it? Reaching all the way to the back, she finally finds the necklace. There you are. As she tries to pull her hand back, she feels a wire tightening around her wrist, digging into the skin. She bites her lip from the pain. Shit.

“Good morning, Cathleen. You seem to be in a bit of a bind right now. As you may be able to feel, a metal wire is now gripping tightly onto your wrist, and it will eventually saw right through the bone, leaving your hand in the drawer. A fair price to pay in exchange for that necklace you're holding, right? Your days pocketing patients’ belongings are over, and I hope that this will act as a reminder any time you get the urge to steal something again. Just try to be quiet, because after all, the patient could wake up at the slightest sound, and you don’t want to get caught stealing, do you? Imagine the consequences. Good luck.”

She moves her hand back slightly, only to feel the wires dig into her skin even more. Fuck. Immediately stopping, she feels the wire stop moving. How am I going to get myself out of this? Maybe I can use my other hand to untangle it. Putting her left hand on the table, she grits her teeth. 3, 2, 1. She moves her left hand to the gap in the drawer, reaching for her other hand.

What if there’s another wire? A terrifying thought pops into her mind, making her actions grind to a halt. Pulling her left hand away, she tries to think of ways to get out of this. If moving back causes it to tighten, maybe I can relieve the pain by moving it forward, that’ll at least give me some time to think. Moving her hand forward, the wire tightens again, fully digging into her skin, blood starting to drip from the fresh cut. She immediately stops moving, her teeth starting to hurt as she stops herself from screaming out in pain.

That didn’t work at all, moving it at all just makes things worse. If only I could see what’s going on in there. Could I take off the top of it? But how would I do that without waking her up? She uses her left hand to feel around the edges of the bedside table, trying to find where the screws are. Maybe I could use the knife to unscrew the top. That way, I can see what’s going on. Finding the screws, she grabs the knife, and tries quietly unscrewing the top of the table. Okay, there are four screws, all visible from the top. I should be able to handle these without making any noise. With one more twist, the first screw comes out, and she gently moves it to the side. She quickly gets to work unscrewing the rest of them.

Done. Now I just need to move everything off so that I can get rid of this thing quietly. Maybe I can put everything on the floor. Grabbing the photo frame, she slowly lowers herself. However, because she’s trying to keep her right arm in place, she can’t reach down far enough to be able to put it down without making a noise.

Looking around for a place to put everything, she spots a chair on wheels nearby. That’ll do. Keeping her arm in place, she stretches her leg over, trying to pull the chair towards her, but misses it by a thread. Damn it. She keeps stretching out, trying in vain to pull it over. Realising that she’s getting nowhere, she looks down at her trapped arm. I might have to move a little. She moves her entire body back. The wire tightens again, cutting through the fat and muscle. Crap, shit, fuck. She bites down hard into her lip, blood starting to pour out onto the clean white tiles. Her breathing grows heavy as she fights through the pain. I can do this. Stretching her leg out, she successfully hooks her foot onto the chair, rolling it over to her as quietly as possible. Putting everything onto the chair, she hooks under the front of the table. I should be able to pull it up from here. Lifting it off in one go, she catches a glimpse of something shiny flashing past.

Her hand falls down onto the drawer, blood flowing from the open stub at the end of her arm. The wire snaps into place, vibrating slightly and sending droplets of blood flying off before setting back into place. It takes her brain a moment to register what just happened, and a moment later she falls to the ground with a thud, the tabletop slamming against the ground.

The patients breathing stops for a moment, and the conversations outside the room disappear, replaced by hurried footsteps. No! The door slams open as a team of doctors and nurses enter the room. She turns to look at them in fear, noticing a sickeningly wide grin on their faces, their cheeks splitting open to fully show their back teeth. She crawls back in fear, leaving a trail of blood on the floor and knocking into the bed.

She feels something wet drop on her head. Looking up, she’s met with a pair of hungry eyes, and the same disgusting grin. The person in the bed has sat up. Keeping her eyes on Cathleen, she reaches into the drawer, pulling out the severed hand. Cathleen watches in horror as the as the patient brings the hand up to her mouth, which opens to show a cavernous maw of razor-sharp teeth, before biting down into the hand. The blood dripping onto her, stinging her eyes. She fully collapses, fainting from the sight.

“Unfortunately, it seems like you failed to free yourself without alerting people Cathleen. I told you that you shouldn’t have woken up the patient, now you have seen the consequences. You should have known that you would get caught eventually, just one slip up and your entire life would go down the drain. So why did you keep on going back for more? Enjoy Hell Cathleen. Goodbye.”

The group of doctors drag her body out of the room, slamming the door shut.