Playground

As the children departed the metal duct, they landed on a rock platform. The heavy stone material was about the size of a tight bedroom, but unlike any of their bedrooms, the edges of the platform dropped off into a pit of darkness. The uncertain borders were frightful, but they were soon drawn ahead to the next path of peril.

A ruthless, mechanical hum reverberated in their ear canals. It was the first hint that what lay ahead might not be pleasant. Secondly, a flurry of shrill, bellowing cries could be heard integrated within the machine-driven noise. But the visuals were more jarring than the veiled clues.

At the end of the circular, rock platform the stone narrowed into a slim path. A straight stretch of hopscotch lay ahead. The chalk outline displayed a single column that consisted of eight steps. The setup was traditional; one that all the children had seen at one time or another.

The first three steps consisted of numbered squares marked 1, 2, and 3. Afterward came a pair of squares set side by side, numbered 4 and 5. Then, a single square with a 6, another set of double squares numbered 7, and 8, and a single square with a 9. Lastly, concluding the gauntlet of horror, was a final space labeled ‘HEAVEN.’

Excluding the chalk, the Heaven platform was the same as the one they were standing on. Besides the word, there were also various disturbing depictions that were drawn with an inordinate amount of detail. The imagery took up nearly the entire space.

The colors that comprised the ‘artwork’ were simply white and red, but the color scheme was chosen with intent. The chalky sketches were gruesome in nature. They portrayed several angels being ripped apart. One had been stabbed and was covered in gaping wounds, while another hung lifelessly from a noose. There was even a third angel that was being strangled with its own halo by a pair of devilish hands.

Beyond the blasphemous artwork stood a cracked open door. Nothing could be seen except the ominous crimson glow that bled out from the other side. Above the framework, painted in a drippy red font, read the word ‘HELL.’

While all of those details were beyond alarming, there was nothing that could compare to what had been erected on each side of the hopscotch path.

As CJ inched closer to the edge, the powerful, machine-like churning noise grew in intensity. On each side of the childish game, two enormous, rectangular meat grinders spun their sharp, steel innards without fail. The spikey metal doom he gazed upon churned mercilessly. When faced with the man-made beast, the thoughts of hope and progress sailing through CJ’s skull were overshadowed.

The shrieks and cries that ripped towards them from above also could not be ignored. The foursome of full-grown cows had been divided equally; two to each side of the hopscotch trail. They stood uneasily in their barred cells, hooves chattering on the solid metal floors.

“What the hell—”

CJ’s speech was interrupted by the slashes that straddled his backside. The salt hadn’t let him forget just how much had been slathered across his wounds.

But CJ wouldn’t allow himself to wallow in anguish, and instead, quickly recalled his brother’s.

“Isaac, can I have the knife?” CJ asked.

He stretched out the collared shirt.

“Sure,” Isaac replied.

The boy could barely tear his gaze away from the dreadful machinery.

“I’ve got you, Bobby,” CJ said.

CJ approached Bobby with the knife and snatched the hangman’s shirt. He cut the fabric into lengthy strips until he had multiple pieces ready. He slid the blade behind his waistband and readied the flannel sections.

“This might hurt a little,” CJ said.

Bobby’s eyes were wet and his face was still pale, but he seemed prepared enough to manage the pain.

CJ softly tightened several strips of fabric around his brother’s forearms. As the pressure grew snug, Bobby did his best not to cry.

Kip watched on, hoping not to see his big brother wince. Each time Bobby showed weakness, it was like a dagger in his heart. The visuals made him even more nervous than before. Up until that day Kip hadn’t even seen Bobby cry. Despite CJ being championed to lead them forward, seeing his eldest brother so vulnerable hurt.

Sadie remained brimming with trauma. She barely had her bearings enough to keep little Donnie by her side. But occupying her mind with keeping him safe had distracted her just enough to remain operable.

Isaac felt the same horrible sensations as his sister but had no distraction to lean on. The flashes of Sam’s pulpy head and gushing body haunted him.

Isaac put his arm around Sadie.

“I love you. Don’t worry, I’m—I’m gonna protect you,” Isaac whispered.

He was lying through his teeth. Things would never be all right with Sam gone. Furthermore, the path that lay ahead of them oozed with danger.

But the words he chose were the type a good big brother spoke to his little sister in a time of doubt. Isaac didn’t even have to think about it; it just happened. He’d put aside their petty grievances; the next few moments might very well be life-defining.

“Here’s another one—ouch! Dang it!” Tanya yelled.

“What’s wrong?” Isaac asked.

“Freakin’ ants. Must’ve missed one.”

Tanya scratched at her irritated ankles. The raspberry rise upon her skin gave way to an itch with no end. The dotted red blotches peppered her legs. Her semi-sharp nails clawed against the corrupted flesh, drawing a little blood and causing a modest amount of translucent liquid to leak.

Tanya pushed through the pain and returned to her prior effort. Another sign was in her sights that was eerily similar to the one she’d seen before going down the slide. It read: PLAYGROUND RULES.

CJ turned back to the commotion and saw Tanya examining the sign. He finished binding the final measure of cloth around Bobby’s arm, then turned his attention to his sister. There was an added interest in the words since he now knew that understanding the riddles could potentially be the difference between life and death.

“What’s it say?” he asked.

“Forget throwing stones just make it across, but losing this game is the ultimate loss. For what lies ahead is a horrible drop, one you’ve got to move past to see Mom and Pop. But first things first, go for a hop, but take a wrong step, and become the slop. You have no choice, you must play the game, and learn that Heaven and Hell are one and the same.”

“The fuck does that even mean! What do you want?!” Bobby screamed.

He looked up toward the ceiling as if someone might somehow answer them.

“Hey, be cool,” CJ said.

“Cool?! How can you fuckin’ be cool right now?!”

“You know what I mean. Screaming isn’t gonna change stuff, we’ve gotta work together.”

Tanya looked back at the massive meat grinders and noticed something she hadn’t before. At the end of the hopscotch outline, in front of each meat grinder, there were two clear tubes that ran upward. The squared spouts at the end of each were angled in the direction of the hopscotch path. From the darkness below she couldn’t determine exactly where the tubes led.

“What are we gonna do now?” Sadie cried.

The general tension and arguments within the group had her anxiety to a pinnacle.

CJ stared down the line at the area they needed to reach. He certainly would feel like he’d reached Heaven if he made it through. At least for a moment, anyway.

He spun his head toward his brother, Kip, then Bobby, before finally locking eyes with Isaac. The seriousness of his glare spoke volumes telepathically. It transferred a message that screamed ‘get ready.’

“We’re gonna play hopscotch, I guess.”