The Room Where it Happened
28 Nov 2019Today’s prompt: “Write a story that ends with the line ‘And this is the room where it happened.’”
Never let it be said that cultists don’t like their musical theater parodies.
You’re in a room. A room with a sigil painted on the floor. A room with chains bolted to the floor, holding you still over said sigil. A room with a boom box in the corner, which one of the cultists presses the play button on.
A trumpet sounds out. Dah dah dah-dah-dah-dah-dah!
They begin singing.
“Two cultists and a victim walk into a room
“Diametric’ly opposed, foes
“Two of them re-emerge, having opened portals that were
“Previously closed
“Bros….”
You sit in stunned silence watching the cultists sashay and shuffle in their robes. Why on earth are they doing this? Do they just get bored with their rituals after a while?
“No one else was in
“The room where it happened
“The room where it happened
“The room where it happened
“No one else was in
“The room where it happened
“The room where it happened
“The room where it happened
“No one really knows how the game is played
“How the ritual’s made
“How the victim gets slayed
“We just assume that it happens
“But no one else is in
“The room where it happens….”
You try to wriggle out of your manacles so you can escape. Or possibly clap. Mostly escape. But they’re locked tightly around your wrists.
There’s a new soloist singing now.
“Well I arranged the whole thing
“I arranged the vigil, the sigil, the offering.”
And now they’re back to the chorus.
“But
“No one else was in
“The room where it happened
“The room where it happened
“The room where it happened
“No one else was in
“The room where it happened
“The room where it happened
“The room where it happened
“No one really knows how the
“Old Ones get to Earth
“The humans that are sacrificed in
“Armageddon’s birth
“We just assume that it happens
“But no one else is in
“The room where it happens….”
You’ve always loved Hamilton. You’ve always loved this song. But it’s never felt quite so long before – probably because you’ve never anticipated being murdered at the end of it, and you feel like you’re swimming in your own adrenaline. At the same time, it’s so short. Verse after verse slips away, spelling certain doom.
“The art of the sacrifice
“Hold your nose and close your eyes
“We want the Old Ones’ reign to flower
“We don’t get a say in who they devour
“So we’ll spill blood from human hearts
“And practice the arcane black arts
“Dark as a tomb where it happens
“I’ve got to be in
“The room where it happens
“I’ve got to be
“The room where it happens
“I’ve got to be
“The room where it happens….”
The cultist who has been singing the Aaron Burr part of the song parody pulls a pistol out of his robe and slowly, deliberately aims it at you.
“I’ve gotta be, I’ve gotta be, I’ve gotta be
“In the room….”
Click boom.
And this is the room where it happened.