How Much Wood

"He isn't real, he can't hurt you," the words of my father echoed in my head.

Those are the words he used to tell me when I would have nightmares. Recurring dreams of the same monster every time. Some crappy horror movie I had saw on TV when I was up too late. Those are the words I repeated now, trying to wake up from this nightmare, but I just can't.

"Are you comfortable," my tormentor asks me as he closes the door behind him.

"No," you can only be so comfortable when you're tied to a metal chair.

"Don't worry, you'll be free to go soon enough," he promises while wringing together his crooked fingers topped with yellow fingernails.

"Do you enjoy hurting people," I ask.

"Oh no, but it is a necessary evil," he almost looks regretful.

"Just let me go then," I start to beg. "I haven't done anything to you, or anyone. I'm a good person."

"It's not what you've done to me, it's what you've done to him," he backs out of the door, not even looking behind to open the door.

The minute he's out of the room I start trying to break free. I can't see what's behind me and that door may be the only way out, but I won't wait. I need to at least take a chance to get free. I can't seem to loosen the ropes or even tip over the chair.

"Sit your ass down," a voice fills the room as the door flies open again.

A different man stands before me. Tall, much more muscular, tattoos covering his bald head. If I didn't know any better I'd think he was Bam Bam Bigelow. Dragging behind him was a sledgehammer. I didn't have to think about what he would do with it. I already knew he was coming to smash bones not concrete.

"I have a question, if you're lying to me, or you're wrong, I'm going to hit you with my friend Sledgy" he asks as tears start to fall from my eyes.

"I'll tell you anything," I promise.

"If a woodchuck could chuck wood, how much wood, would a wood chuck chuck," he asked with a smile.

"I don't know, that's just a tongue twister," I scream out in fear.

"Yeah, I know. But you didn't know the answer. I think I'll start with a knee."

He inches towards me and examines each knee. He nods silently to himself. He grips the hammer with both hands and swings back leaving a white mark on the ground as he uses momentum to bring it into the air. The hammer seems to be falling slow motion as it passes over his head and makes a downward decent towards my right knee.