Sins Loom: The Unwilling Weaver

Waking up, a dizzying headache ran through John’s mind. He squinted as he tried to adjust to the dingy lighting. He felt the cold concrete beneath him. What happened? Where am I? Moving his hands to rub his eyes, they locked in place, refusing to move. Looking down, he saw chains connecting his arms to the floor. He tugged on them harder, and the chains clinked against the solid concrete. Moving them in every direction, he found that he could only barely bring his hands to his stomach, the chains forcing his arms to be extended downwards, away from his body. He tried to slide his wrist through the restraints, but they were too tight.

Staring around in growing fear, he saw a door in front of him. Desperately, he tried to stand up, but his body was held firmly to the ground, he tried to struggle to the door, but could only barely raise his back off the wall.

“Good morning, John. Your life has been a great success, you are wealthy and have a successful career. However, your pompous arrogance has blinded you, stopping you from finding love. You have grown spiteful, and in your spite, you have destroyed a family. It is now your turn to repent. On your right is a familiar tool, one you once used to save the lives of mothers and their children, and now you will use it to save yourself. On your left you will find a scale. Place the weight of a newborn child on it and you shall find the key to your freedom. However, you don’t have long. In 3 minutes, the key will be lost forever. Your time starts now John.”

On the door in front of him, a timer started counting down. His eyes darted around in fear, spotting the scales to his left and a scalpel blade on his right. Please no this can’t be happening, this is not real. Sweat soaked through his clothes, as he flailed about in fear, trying to free himself. His breathing grew laboured and heavy as the timer passed the two-minute mark. Calming down, he grabbed the scalpel. I can’t cut through the restraints with this. What should I do? Watching as the timer ticked down, grim determination became visible in John’s eyes. Ripping off his shirt, he stared at his protruding stomach. Tightening his grip on the scalpel, he drove the blade into his stomach. A pained groan escaped his lips, but he squeezed his mouth shut. 3kgs. Guiding the blade through, he cut across his stomach, blood oozing out as a line was cut open from the centre of his gut and across the left side. Pushing through the pain, he brought the blade down his stomach, judging how much he needed to cut. Bringing it back across with one quick stroke, a blood-curdling scream drowned out the rattling of the chains.

Blood dripped through his fingers, pooling on the floor beneath him. His blood-soaked hands slipped off the handle. He heaved as he watched the blade move up and down with his breathing. Seeing the clock hit the final minute, he gripped the scalpel and pulled it up. Releasing all the pain with a war-like cry, he sawed through the fat from one side to the other, cutting off layers of fat. The fat slid off, falling to the floor. He hissed as the cold air swept across the open wound.

Dropping the blade, he gripped the fat in his hands. A guttural roar pushed through his teeth as he reached for the scales. He tightened his grip as the fat threatened to slip out of his bloody hands. Inching towards the scales, he released all his pain with a primal scream, as he dropped the fat on the scales. The fat hit the edge of the scales and slid off, just out of reach.

Why? John slumped down as the last flickers of hope were stomped out. The pain no longer registered in his mind as he stared lifelessly at the scales. The timer reached 30 seconds as he sat there. His head turned and stared at the door, tears pouring down. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt them. I was foolish and lonely.” Please forgive me. “I wasn’t thinking right. I’ll turn myself in, just please let me go. Find it in your heart to forgive me for what I’ve done.” He cried as the timer ticks down. 5... 4... 3... 2... 1. A loud buzzer sounded as the floor opened underneath the scales. He watched it fall into the abyss as pain and guilt tore his heart apart.

“Forgiveness will not bring that family back to life. It will not bring that man’s soul back to his lifeless corpse, nor bring his wife back into his loving arms. Forgiveness will not give that family a second chance at happiness. The only thing you could have done is repented. You should have faced the things you did openly, instead you left it to fester. This was your final chance to repent John, but you failed. Now you will die here in a pool of your own blood, and the truth will be revealed. Enjoy Hell John. Goodbye.”

He burst into tears as the voice disappears. “I’m sorry... I’m sorry” he mumbled repeatedly as he stared at the door. Blood oozed from the hole in his stomach, coating everything around him. Without a spark of hope left in his eyes, he sat there, wallowing in pain as he slowly bled out.

His head spun as he lost feeling in his fingers and toes. His eyes shifted away from the door, spotting a glint in the pool of blood. There’s no need to wait. He limply reached for the scalpel, cutting his fingers on the blade as he wrapped his hand around the hilt. Shakily raising his hand, he brought the blade up higher. “Forgive me.” With one final push, he drove the blade to his neck.

Clink.

The restraints tightened, stopping his hands from reaching further. Furious, he threw the scalpel at the wall, and the blade snapped off. He stared at the drying pool below him as tears welled up in his eyes.