Okay just for an explanation, my English teacher last year made my class do this game where we wrote a short story in the span of 5 minutes. I liked the game so much I started doing it for fun. I’m starting with the suspense genre. My next suspense tool is phobias:

The Stranger’s sly smile greets me as I exit my room. “Today’s going to be a fun one, Ali.”

My stomach drops as he leads me back to the testing room. The Stranger holds the door for me, but I stop in the middle of the doorway, shocked. A white, pouch-like contraption stands in the middle of the room. It is held by multiple cords and pipes that jut out in various directions.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it.” The Stranger says, “Jervis worked on it all night. It looks just like my designs.”

Jervis is his assistant. He has a high-pitched, stuttering voice as if he wants to say everything all at once. His pale skin is bright in the hospital like lights as he limps up to me.

“S-so this is j-just like any other t-test,” Jervis says to me “We’ll p-put y-you in that rubbery bag th-thingy,” he has such a way with words, “And it will just weigh you and stuff. Then we’ll start the test.” He leads me to the opening of the bag and I step in, using my shaking hands to hold it open. Jervis closes it and a few seconds later, I hear a switch flip.

The first thing that happens is that all the air leaves my lungs. I let out a yell, but my scream dies in my throat as I suffocate.

Oh god, I think to myself, he’s pulling all the air out. I claw at the rubber quickly encasing me. This isn’t like the other tests. The sweat gathering on my body fills it. I slip and fall. Hard. I try to stand. Bam. I crash onto the floor. Again, I try to get up. Slowly but surely I manage to stand. Black dots cloud my vision. My lungs burn. I try to breathe in, but fail and make a choking noise. My whole body has a pulse. I suck in air but fail. I’m drowning. I’m going to die, I realize. Just as I start to feel my life fading, I hear The Stranger’s voice calmly say, “Shut it off, Jervis. Her vitals are getting low”

It opens and I collapse. I pant and lay there for a minute. “Only five seconds? I expected more from you. We’ll try again tomorrow, Ali dear,” The Stranger says. I hate it when he calls me dear.

Unfortunately my ten minutes ended here and so does Ali’s story.

Okay just for an explanation, my English teacher last year made my class do this game where we wrote a short story in the span of 5 minutes. I liked the game so much I started doing it for fun. I’m starting with the suspense genre. My second suspense tool is a time constraint:

He cursed under his breath as the screen flashed red again. He was down to 3 tries left on the passcode. The ticking seemed to get louder as he hurriedly made another calculation as if it would help him. He typed in another code. The screen flashed red. 

“Callen, we have three minutes.” Alice said nervously behind him. 

“I know, I know, I know.” He muttered. 

“Cal do you know what’s a stake here. You need to speed it up.” Noah said, his voice rising. 

“I know what’s at stake! It’s a literal bomb! Now shut up and let me focus.” He type in the new code. Red. “Shoot,” Callen muttered. 

There was a minute left. He tried to remember anything the stranger had said that could be a code. “30 seconds Callen,” Alice said nervously. 

The words “simple,” echo through his head. It was the last thing the stranger had said to them after he had locked them in.

Quickly he types in the final code, 1234. The count down stops. His heart starts racing, he gets read for the explosion. The screen goes green. He laughs out a breath. “That felt too easy,” Noah whispers.

Okay just for an explanation, my English teacher last year made my class do this game where we wrote a short story in the span of 5 minutes. I liked the game so much I started doing it for fun. I’m starting with the suspense genre. My first suspense tool that I’m using is isolated setting:

It was well past midnight and Chris was sitting in his apartment living room.

The images scattered across the floor still made no sense to him. His eyelids struggled to stay up as he stared at the seemingly impossible to solve puzzle. It was eerily quiet, which scared Chris more than he would like to admit.

Then a faint ticking noise started coming from his dining room. Adrenaline pumped through as he began to imagine all the things that could’ve created the noise. His heart pounded in his chest. Chris’s parents always swore that it got easier but, with his nerves, living alone would always seem to be scary, especially at night. He knew better than to say anything. Whenever he had watched horror movies with his friends he always thought it was funny when the main character said, “Hello?” as if the thing that is trying to kill them would answer.

He slowly stood up, heart racing, and took small, quiet steps until he reached the kitchen. The noise grew louder and louder with each step he took. He reached his shaking hand to the light switch and pressed it as silently as he could. The ticking noise seemed to grow louder than a car horn. The lights filled the dining room and there was… nothing. Nothing except a small envelope that was tucked away into a cupboard, the corner peeking out. He crossed the room, looking around with paranoia. He picked the opened the envelope and read it quickly. It said, “Can you find me?” with a small cartoonish picture of a clock at the bottom corner. The ticking noise filled the whole room and Chris covered his ears.

Although I wanted to continue the time did run out and this is where Chris’s story ends.