THE CHRONICLES OF GIN
A Serialized Gingerbread Man Retelling for Adults
Trigger Warning: This installment contains dark themes, body horror, and unsettling imagery. Reader discretion is advised.
Part 7: Into the Playroom
When I pictured the place where Miss Kitty would take me to play, I imagined a cozy secret hideaway in the main house, somewhere only someone with her crazy-sexy agility and flexibility could access with ease.
Turned out, the place was just too creepy for anyone to willingly disturb.
“Is this abandoned shed on the way to the playroom…?”
The whole structure leaned visibly, one window was broken, the door hung at an odd angle, and an unmistakable aura of death and despair clung to the place.
"We're here," Scruff said.
“It's not much from the outside but it's what's inside that counts.” Kitherine added with a sly smile. Then, moving past me, she dragged every inch of her side along me as she went. Naturally, I followed like she had me on a leash.
The inside of the shed wasn’t much better. A single lightbulb flickered from the ceiling, barely illuminating a space packed with the dusty, rusty, skeletal remains of farm tools and equipment that must’ve been abandoned a century ago.
I did my best to look impressed.
"So, this is where the fun happens?"
Kitherine bit her lip and looked down. "Not quite." Then, she lifted a floorboard and hopped into the space below. I turned to Scruff incredulously.
"Follow her," he instructed, then deliberately walked just outside the shed and sat down.
Okaaaaaaaaayyyyy…
It was darker in the playroom than the shed. I am eternally grateful for that fact because what I did see, still haunts me.
I could just barely make out the shapes of several small creatures in various states of brokenness, fastened neatly to a wooden frame with strips of pink yarn and pins.
"Don’th forgeth me, Mith Kithy! I can sthill play!" slurred a lizard with what was left of his face. His tail was just starting to grow back, but that pulpy eye was probably gone for good.
Next to him, a spider with two legs too few to qualify as an insect struggled to wrap himself tightly in his own web.
A three-legged mouse squeaked and bounced eagerly against his restraints as Miss Kitty drew near, which was actually impressive considering the severity of the slashes across his gut.
"Hush, all of you!" Miss Kitty snarled. And, of course, they obeyed.
"Meet Gin. He’s thinking about coming down here to play. Everyone say, ‘Hi, Gin.’"
"Hi, Gin…" they replied, an eerie chorus of fragile voices already screamed hoarse stumbling from mouths with missing pieces.
"Gin, tell everyone h- Gin?"
I may be a fool for big-boned felines, but even my stupidity has limits.
I ran.
Not only did I run, I broke records, I may have even broken the sound barrier.
But I only ran far enough to get to Scruff waiting outside so I could screech, “What the f–k was that?!”
To be continued...
Yikes! It seems our cookie protagonist has bitten off more than he can chew. Does Miss Kitty still have his consent? Will Scruff really save him? Tune in to the next installment to find out, definitely eventually 😉!
