The Waiting Room

I shift uncomfortably in the hard backed, plastic chair and glance at the clock on the wall anxiously. The waiting room is stifling hot and I wipe at my sweaty forehead with the back of my already damp sleeve. My eyes dart around the room, searching for something, anything to distract me from the never-ending boredom of waiting for my turn. The room is near empty with only a few other occupants to keep me company. The occasional awkward cough momentarily breaks the prolonged silence. One of the occupants flicks through a gardening magazine, his face stuck in a permanent expression of non-interest. An extremely overweight man sits opposite me, wheezing heavily. I run my eye over the rolls of fat that constitutes the man’s neck, wondering if it is just air escaping from the gaps in the bulging layers of skin. He stares at me with large, dead eyes and I shift my gaze away hurriedly, a sharp shiver coursing through my spine. The remaining visitor, an elderly man with a walking stick is huddled in a chair by the door, his head bowed low and his eyes shut. His mouth hangs open limply and I begin to grow worried that the elderly gentleman may have passed away in his sleep. The door to the waiting room opens and a extremely slender man, wearing dark blue scrubs, unfurls himself out of the doorframe. He glances around the room with a cold, penetrating stare. I shrink back into the chair, trying to make myself as small as possible, in order to avoid detection. My pitiful attempt to escape selection fails and the dark eyes latch on to me. The willowy man’s thin lips curl into a wide arching grin, making the hairs on my arms stand to attention. With a thin bony finger he beckons me towards him and I swallow hard, forcing myself out of the chair on trembling legs. The intense stare still lingers in the dentist’s black eyes and I feel myself inevitably drawn over to him, like a lamb to the slaughter. He swivels on the spot and strides through the door, his back straight and his arms pressed tight against his side. Just as I am leaving the room, a hand shoots out, grabbing me roughly by the arm. I glance to my right and recoil in surprise. The elderly man stares up at me, his face a mask of pain. His pupils are alarmingly diluted and the nails of his fingers dig deep into my sleeve, pinching my skin. I wrench my arm free and the elderly man opens his mouth and howls loudly, like a wounded animal. I shudder as I peer inside his mouth. The majority of the man’s teeth are missing and the few left are smashed, chipped and deformed. His gums are black and rotting and feeling repulsed I hurry through the open door, trying to shake the horrid memory from my mind.

The dentist opens another door and leads me into a room with an operating chair in the middle and an accompanying steel table with an assortment of painful looking tools. The dentist’s immaculately polished loafers echo across the linoleum floor. The hollow sound reverberates around the room, reinforcing the dread rising within me. With one of his skeleton arms he motions for me to get into the seat. Every fibre of my body wants to turn and flee but I remain frozen to the spot, too petrified to move. I feel hands curl around my arms and glancing to my left and right, I find two nurses standing either side of me, surgical masks covering the lower part of their faces. Their grip is surprisingly strong, considering they are both short, petite women. I flail and thrash about wildly as they force me over to the chair. The one on my left slackens her grip slightly and I seize the opportunity and deliver a swift elbow to the woman’s face. To my surprise she doesn’t release her grip or stagger backwards from the force. In fact the nurse doesn’t even register the blow. I am pushed roughly into the chair and my blood runs cold as I spot a set of straps, attached to the chair’s armrests. Kicking and yelling, the straps are forced around my wrists. The nurses move down to my legs and repeat the action. When I am completely strapped down, the nurses position an overhead light above me and switch it on. The bright intensity of the light hits in me full on in the face, instantly causing blindness. The pain shoots through my temples. Eventually the harshness of the light lessens and I see the gaunt, skeletal face of the dentist towering above me. Clutched in his bony hand is a small electrical drill. His finger slides over the button and the high-powered whir of the drill fills the room. As he leans in towards me, I can glimpse my own terrified reflection in the dark, coal pits of the dentist’s eyes. His mouth spreads in a wide arc and he lets out a cold, shrill laugh. I thrash about wildly, twisting my head from side to side, in a desperate attempt to escape the rotating shard of metal. All of a sudden, a pair of icy hands grab either side of my face. Looking up I spot one of the petite nurses from earlier. She stares down at me with the same charcoal black eyes as the dentist. My attempts to tear myself free from her grip are fruitless and I am taken aback at her strength. The other nurse appears by her side and claws open my mouth with her long fingers. A metal clamp is thrust between my lips, preventing me from closing my mouth. My cheeks feel extremely stretched, on the point of tearing. Helpless, I watch on in abject horror as the dentist moves in close and guides the drill towards the bottom row of my teeth. There is a ear wrenching crunch as the high powered drill enters into a tooth. I let out a bone-chilling scream, my eyes bulging from their sockets. The dentist pushes on, a mischievous grin plastered across his face. The drill powers through, cracking the tooth in two. A shard of broken tooth flies out, flecking the dentist’s cheek. He ignores it and pushes on, through the remaining chunk of tooth and straight into the gum. Blood spurts onto the dentist’s face and splatters down his uniform. I gargle as the remaining blood clogs up my throat. My whole jaw feels as if it is on the verge of exploding and my temples are almost ready to burst. The last thing I see before my world turns black is the mad dentist laughing manically above me, his clothes and face drenched in crimson blood.

© [Daniel Ashby] and [Ashby Tales], [2014]. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to [Daniel Ashby] and [Ashby Tales] with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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4 thoughts on “The Waiting Room

  1. Wow Dan if I wasn’t nervous of the dentist before reading this I am now. Terrifying and very descriptive. It made me shudder and I could feel the pain.

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