*Roll Over

Intro: The other night in bed my husband and I were going over nursery rhymes. Trying to be funny he added on to one I had said, "And they all rolled over and one fell . . . dead." I shuddered at first because of how gruesome it was then we tried to figure out why that would be true. This is the story from that. Once again, thank my husband for the idea. It still needs to be a little flushed out but I hope you enjoy it.

Kendal used to think silence was horrifying. Now he would do anything to get it back. Well, almost anything. Death was not an option.

"Rise and shine," a voice to his right gasped over the sound of the turning gears and dripping water.

"Rise?" A wave of panic shifted through Kendal.

If John was giving in, he didn't know how long he would be able to last without him. Though he had never seen John, he felt something for the man, stronger than the bond with his own brothers. He and John were brothers in blood. Once again he turned his head the few inches to the side, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man. A black cloth hung down blocking any view.

"I don't think I can take another day, Kenny," John coughed a guttural wet noise that anywhere else would have got immediate admittance to a doctor.

"Of course you can, Johnny."

The hated nickname didn't even get a cough in protest. Kendal's heart sank even further.

"Don't leave me," he whispered the words.

"Remember those old nursery rhymes and sayings: 'When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall,' 'Don't step on a crack or you'll break your mother's back.' 'Jack jumped over the candlestick, burned his fingers and burned his toes, that's the way the story goes.'"

He didn't like where this was headed. John's voice softened by the moment. All he could do was stare up at the black ceiling flinching when a drop of water struck some part of his face. The whirring noises of some unseen device drowned John out for a moment. A faint breeze ruffled Kendal's long stringy hair. He didn't even know how long he'd been strapped to the table. A week or thirty years, he couldn't tell. The noise finally died down and Kendal strained to hear the last of John's words.

"'And the little one said, 'Roll over, Roll over.' So they all rolled over and one fell dead.' Good night, Kenny."

"John!" He watched the cloth separating them flutter with movement.

Something snapped with a metallic clang and there was at thud. It took all of his willpower not to move and see what happened. He lay there, head turned to the side, acutely aware of a large metal pin sticking between his shoulder blades.

"Roll over," he murmured and imagined hearing the metal pin beneath him, snapping into place no longer held down by his body weight.

Another drop hit his cheek sliding down as a tear. He clenched his hands, securely fastened to his belt and waited for the unseen figures to take his dead friend away. The first time he'd heard the door open there had been two other people in the room somewhere with him, hidden by the black cloth surrounding his prone bed. That was the first time he heard the snap of the pin. He'd screamed for help and been cut short. He shivered at the memory. Out of courtesy to the other prisoners, no one else screamed when they rolled over to die. Those who rolled over were disposed by spikes in the floor activated by the released pin.

The small shaft of light visible over the top of the curtain at the foot of his bed disappeared with the clanging door. The noises increased and Kendal was left feeling empty as he stared at the still cloth next to him. Day and night passed interchangeably to him, and true to the request, no one else was brought in. Kendal missed having someone to talk to.

"Roll over, Roll over," he said through cracked lips.

Though the iv kept him alive, it wasn't by much. He'd even lost count of the number of times people have come and changed the bags. The pin at his back felt like a sword, slowly driving itself through his skin.

"Roll over, roll over."

He closed his eyes and rocked but he didn't have enough strength to even lift his shoulder off the slab. Gritting his teeth, Kendal tried again, this time almost getting his left shoulder up. He felt the pin recede back in place under him.

"Roll over," he grunted as he threw all the moment he had into turning.

The pin snapped up and Kendal grimaced as fell back on the slab, his back slamming into the upright pin. The end of the slab with his feet dropped leaving him groaning the pin holding him in place partially by his shirt, partially by his skin. He looked down at the gaping hole around the table and at the very bottom spikes loomed up out of the darkness.

The pain made it nearly impossible to focus on what he was seeing but after a moment his eyes strayed to a portion of the hole that didn't shine in the faint light. A small staircase led out of the hole. He shifted his shoulders and the pin gave way. He fell to the floor with a thud, catching the side of his leg on a spike, but otherwise unharmed. He used the point of one of the spikes to tear through the leather straps at his wrist freeing his hands. The injuries to his back and leg seemed to dull as he walked around the spikes, his gazed permanently fixed on the staircase. At the foot of the staircase he leaned against the wall, trying to catch his breath.

"And they all rolled over and one fell free."