The Unshackled Night

You wake up to a world in which all prisons are shut down, releasing dangerous prisoners into your neighborhood. This prompts is an invitation to step inside writing creativity - Kelsey Worsham

I woke to a dull, throbbing pain in my head. The alarm clock beside me blared its shrill wake-up call, dragging me reluctantly from the fog of sleep. Rubbing my temples, I glanced at the time—7:00 AM. Another day in this quiet, suburban neighborhood, or so I thought.

As I stumbled out of bed, the first thing I noticed was the silence. Not the usual peaceful morning quiet, but an oppressive, unnatural silence. No birds chirping, no hum of distant traffic, nothing. Unease prickled at the back of my neck.

After a quick shower and a cup of coffee, I stepped outside. The air felt heavy, almost suffocating. I glanced down the street and saw my neighbor, Mrs. Candy, clutching her bathrobe tightly around her frail frame. Her face was pale, her eyes wide with fear.

"Mrs. Candy, are you alright?" I called out, stepping towards her.

She turned to me, her voice trembling. "Haven't you heard? All the prisons... they're empty. The prisoners... they've been released."

A chill ran down my spine. "What do you mean, released?"

"They just opened the gates and let them out," she whispered. "All of them. Murderers, rapists, every kind of monster you can imagine. They're out there, right now."

I felt the blood drain from my face.

"This has to be some kind of mistake."

"It's not," she said, clutching my arm. "They announced it on the news this morning. The government... they've shut down every prison in the country."

Panic surged through me. "I need to get inside," I muttered, turning back towards my house.

Locking the door behind me, I grabbed my phone and turned on the news. Every channel was the same—footage of rioting, chaos, and panic. Newscasters spoke in urgent tones, warning citizens to stay indoors and lock their doors.

The broadcast cut to a clip of a man I recognized instantly: James Harlow, a notorious serial killer who had terrorized our town years ago. He was smiling, walking down a street lined with familiar houses. My blood ran cold.

He was here. In our neighborhood.

My thoughts raced. I needed to protect myself. I checked all the windows and doors, ensuring they were locked. My mind went to my family—my parents lived just a few blocks away. I needed to check on them.

Grabbing the baseball bat from my closet, I ventured out into the eerie silence. Each step felt heavy, my heartbeat loud in my ears. As I reached the street, I noticed shadows moving behind curtains, fearful eyes watching from the safety of their homes.

Halfway to my parents' house, I heard a scream. High-pitched, filled with terror. It came from the Parker residence. I knew I should keep moving, but I couldn't ignore it. Tightening my grip on the bat, I crept towards the house.

The front door was ajar. I pushed it open slowly, my breath shallow. The living room was a mess, furniture overturned, blood smeared on the walls. I followed the sound of muffled cries to the kitchen.

There, in the dim light, stood James Harlow. His back was to me, but I recognized the tattoos snaking up his arms. He held a knife to Mrs. Parker's throat, her eyes wide with terror.

"James," I said, my voice steady despite the fear coursing through me. "Let her go."

He turned slowly, a twisted smile spreading across his face. "Well, well, look who it is. Come to join the party?"

I raised the bat. "Let her go, or I swear I'll—"

"You'll what?" He laughed, a sound that sent chills down my spine. "You think you can stop me? They've unleashed us, you see. There's no going back."

He pressed the knife harder against Mrs. Parker's throat, drawing a thin line of blood. "But I'll tell you what. I'll give you a choice. You can try to stop me, or you can run. Either way, someone's going to die tonight."

My mind raced. I needed to buy time. "Why are you doing this, James?"

"Why?" His eyes gleamed with madness. "Because I can. Because the world needs to see what happens when they set the monsters free."

In a split second, I made my decision. I lunged at him, swinging the bat with all my might. It connected with his arm, and he dropped the knife with a grunt of pain. Mrs. Parker stumbled back, and I swung again, aiming for his head.

He ducked, tackling me to the ground. The bat skidded across the floor as we struggled. His hands closed around my throat, squeezing. Spots danced before my eyes, and I felt my strength fading.

With a desperate burst of energy, I brought my knee up, hitting him square in the stomach. He gasped, loosening his grip just enough for me to throw him off. I scrambled for the bat, grabbing it and swinging wildly.

The bat connected with his head, and he crumpled to the floor. Gasping for breath, I staggered to my feet, looking down at his unconscious form.

Mrs. Parker sobbed, collapsing against the counter. "Thank you," she whispered.

"We need to get out of here," I said, my voice hoarse. "It's not safe."

We made our way outside, the oppressive silence now filled with distant sirens and screams. The world had become a nightmare, a place where monsters roamed free.

As we hurried towards my parents' house, I couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning. The prisons were empty, but the darkness they had contained was now unleashed upon the world.

And we were all trapped in the unshackled night.