Cole's Haunting Melody (The Gods' Executioner Series) (17 page)

Chapter 17
: 27 Dresses/ Circles of Hell

[November 8th]
Day 1, 1100 hours:

“This isn’t so bad;
I honestly thought dress shopping would be way worse, but these couches are pretty comfy!” Jason exclaims.

“I know, right!? I was expecting blood curdling amounts of agony, but this is more like judging a costume contest or something.” I reply.

“What do you guys think of this one?” Cheza asks while Natasha moves the dressing curtain aside. The one hundred eighty degrees of mirror behind her makes me dizzy for a moment as I look at the swathes of white lace on Reyna.

“I like it
!” Jason says.

“Me too.”
I agree.

“I’m not so
sure, let me try on
one more
.” Reyna says and shuts the curtain.

(
Bumbum)

“What?”

Reyna opens up the curtain ten minutes later and appears to be wearing the same dress.

“I thought you were going to try on another dress
?” I inquire.

“I am. This one is more traditional lace.” Reyna replies.

“This one is okay.” Jason says.

“Really?
I kinda like this one… let me try on another.” Reyna says and shuts the curtain.

(
Bumbum Bum Bumbum)

“Airi, what are you doing?”

(Providing foreshadowing background music)

“Huh?”

(You’ll see, Master)

Dress #3:

Jason and I: “I like this one!”

Reyna: “I’m not so sure
… I’m going to try on
one more.
”

Dress #4:

Jason and I: “That one’s not so great.”

Reyna: “I like this one…
well, I do have a few more to try on.”

Dress #5:

Jason and I: “This one is alright.”

Cheza: “Okay, let’s start rating these on a scale of one through five.”

“Why not one through ten?” I ask.

“Because that’s too many numbers!”
Cheza replies.

Reyna: “Okay, I give this one a two.”

Cheza: “Really? I’d give it at least a two point five.”

Natasha: “I say a three point five.
Judges’ ruling?”

Jason and I: “Three.”

“So this dress averages out to a two point seven five.” Cheza says while typing on her phone.

Dress #6:

Jason and I: “Four.”

Reyna: “One point five.”

Cheza: “Two point two five.

Natasha: “
Two point five.”

“Okay, if you guys are going
to use decimals, then just rate it on a scale of one through ten!” I exclaim.

“Because that’s too many numbers to choose from!” the girls all exclaim.

“By using decimals, you have the same amount numbers to choose from, if not more!” I retort.

“Okay, so this dress gets a three point oh five.” Cheza says, completely ignoring me as Natasha shuts the curtain again.

“Hey bro, have you noticed how every dress that we like, the girls rank lower?” Jason whispers.

“Yeah, I did pick up on that. Let’s try some reverse psychology on the next
one.” I reply and we wait for the next dress.

Dress #7:

I like this dress so I look over at Jason and give him a curt nod and he returns it.

“
One.” I say.

“
Five.” Jason says simultaneously.

“Three.” The girls all say and shut the curtain.

“What happened to reverse psychology?” I whisper.

“That’s what I was doing; I told them what I really thought of it so they would think I thought the opposite and would judge it higher.” Jason explains.

“What? That’s not reverse psychology; that’s… something else entirely. Just say the opposite of what you think and we should be good.” I reply.

…

[November 10th]
Day 3, 1000 hours:

Jason and I: “
Five.”

The Girls: “
Two.”

“Okay, it is apparent that our opinions don’t actually matter.” I announce.

“What makes you think that?” Cheza asks.

“
For the past two days, we’ve been mind-fucking you guys into rating the dresses we like higher because you guys go in the opposite direction of whatever we say!” Jason exclaims.

“What!?
You guys! We just wanted your honest opinions!” Reyna replies.

“You want my honest opinion?
Fine!” Jason responds.

(There’s a storm a
comin’)

After two days of dress shopping, we are both mentally exhausted so I know something bad is coming even without Airi’s warning, but I’m not quite quick enough to stop this impending disaster.

“That mermaid-style dress makes you look like a manatee that has been gorging itself on deep-fried fish slathered in chocolate!” Jason exclaims, not holding back at all.

I pinch my eyes shut and start shaking my head as all three girls glare at him. Jason’s eyes grow wide as his mind comprehends what he just said
to the four weeks pregnant mother of his child. Cheza forms an ice dagger and hands it to Reyna, who swiftly throws it into Jason’s stomach.

“
AUGH!” Jason shouts as the curtain slams shut.

“FUCK BRO!
How do you deal with this happening on a regular basis!?” Jason screams.

“Just wait;
I still have to pull it out. On three; one, two, three!” I announce and yank the dagger out of his stomach with my right hand before quickly covering the wound with my left hand to form a seal with my blood.

“SHIT! DAMN THIS HURTS!” Jason yells.

“I know, bro; I know. So what did we learn?” I ask like I’m talking to a child.

“Our opinions don’t matter. OUR OPINIONS DON’T MATTER!” Jason shouts hysterically.

“Poor newbies. I remember when I first figured it out. It’s okay; it does get better. Just remember that your real opinions don’t matter… but your fake ones do. Tell them what they want to hear, and you’re golden.” An old man says while passing by.

“Thank you! Thank you, wise sage!” Jason exclaims, cracking slightly
.

…

[November 11th]
Day 4, 1300 hours:

“Alright so we need to have all the bridesmaids’ dresses
be halter tops since Naia won’t be able to wear any other kind of dress without severe modifications and it would look stupid if the dresses aren’t all the same.” Reyna says.

“Of course!”
Cheza replies.

“Definitely.”
Natasha agrees.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the store…

“I’VE GOT IT! We’re obviously stuck in a time loop and if we don’t do something, this will just keep repeating itself for eternity!” Jason exclaims.

“Of course!
It’s so simple! So how do we stop it?” I ask.

“I’m going to try this.” Jason says and takes off in a full speed sprint, straight into the marble wall. Jason rebounds off the wall as blood flies from his face.

“Did it work?” Jason groans while blood dribbles from his mouth.

“
Hey boys, we’re still going to be at least another hour.” Cheza comes over and informs us.

“No.” I tell Jason.

…

[November 12th]
Day 5, 1100 hours:

“
I found the door, but it wouldn’t open… it just wouldn’t open! No matter how hard I pulled on the door!” Jason hysterically exclaims.

“It must’ve been locked…
The key out of here must be behind my eye! Cole, take this spoon and use it to get the key out from behind my eye!” Jason tells me.

“Where did you get a spoon?” I ask.

“I found it yesterday. I’ve been using it to try and tunnel out of this hell hole, but marble is much harder than a metal spoon. Now hurry up and gouge my eye out!” Jason demands.

“I’m not going to gouge your eye out, bro.” I reply.

“Fine! I’ll do it then!” Jason shouts and brings the spoon to his eye.

“No! There is no key behind your eye!
This is not a SAW movie!” I exclaim as I grab the spoon and try to wrestle it away from him.

“
That is not the way to get out of this! We just have to serve our time.” I tell him and Jason breaks down into tears.

“I know
, bro; I know.” I say as I comfort him.

…

[November 13th]
Day 6, 1400 hours:

As I’m banging my head against the marble wall, Cheza comes over and smacks me.

“Would you stop that!? All that banging is giving me a headache! Just go into the corner and talk to the spoon with Jason!” Cheza orders.

In the corner, Jason is rocking back and forth while holding the spoon with both hands.

“The cat’s in the cradle with the silver spoon. Little boy blue and the man in the moon. When you comin’ home, Daddy? Don’t know when, but we’ll get together then, son. The cat’s in the cradle with the silver spoon…” Jason keeps repeating while rocking back and forth. I walk over to the corner and sit down beside him.

“The cat’s in the cradle with the silver spoon…” I join in while rocking back and forth.

…

[November 14th]
Day 7, 1000 hours:

Jason and I are both lying in the corner in the fetal position.

“CT, I don’t think I’m going to make it.” Jason rasps out.

“Don’t say that…
we can make it through this, together.” I reply.

“T
ell Reyna that I still love her… and I want her to name our child after Neil Patrick Harris…” Jason whispers as his eyes slowly shut.

“Jason…
Jason…? JASOOOOON!” I shout.

“Hey guys, are you ready to go?” Reyna asks and Jason’s pop open.

“You three are done? It’s over? We’re free?” I ask.

“Cole, quit being so melodramatic and let’s go.” Cheza replies.

“We did it, CT! We made it through this!” Jason exclaims as he hugs me and we both start crying. We’re weeping into each other’s arms when we kiss each other.

****

“AH!” I scream awake to find myself spooning a mannequin, with my leg thrown over its hip. I look around and realize that it’s not over… that I’m still trapped in this nightmare…

Where did my clothes go?

…

[November 14th]
Day 7, 1700 hours:

“So what happened next?
” The investigator taking a statement asks.

“Well, Jason found a container of Play-
Doh underneath one of the racks…” I tell the investigator while tightening the security blanket around my shoulders. “And I used it to create a directional plastic explosive with my blood. I rolled it into tubing, set it up on the outer wall, and blew open an exit next to the doors.”

“Did it occur to you that the doors weren’t locked?”
The investigator questions.

“Yes, once on the outside where I had fresh air, it did occur to me that Jason might have been pulling when he should have been pushing.” I reply. The investigator writes something in his small note book.

“Please continue.” The investigator requests.

“After we saw glorious daylight, we went through the newly created exit and escaped. By this time, Jason had already stripped down to his boxers and tied his shirt around his head to mop up the sweat from his efforts of trying to tunnel through the marble with
his spoon. Jason ran through the hole in the wall with his spoon raised above his head while shouting ‘FREEEEEDOOOOM!’” I recant.

“And what happened to your clothing?” The investigator asks.

“I honestly don’t remember. They either got incinerated in the blast… or I ate them…” I reply.

“Alright, I think I have all we need. Would you like to press charges? After all, what they did to you two was technically psychological torture and unlawful imprisonment.” The investigator asks.

“That’s alright… we do still love them, after all.” I smile at him.

“Well
, I still suggest that you get some counseling; I needed extensive therapy after going dress shopping for my sister’s wedding… you might also want to ask about Stockholm Syndrome.” The investigator says.

“Thank you for the suggestion, but I think I just want to go home now.
” I reply.

“Of course.
Prince Jason has already settled to have someone take care of the damages so you are all free to go.” The investigator replies.