Dino Doom

    As a hypochondriac, Philip Jackson spent a lot of his life in terror of the various horrible ways he was going to die. Despite his sheer dedication to contemplating the end of his days, Phil wasn’t imaginative enough to expect this.

    Phil was stuck in a dino. It wasn’t even a proper dinosaur, so no one could say he went out Jurassic Park style, in some reality defying science fiction scenario. It was an animatronic monster and it smelled like roasted feet.

    The first few hours were rough. Phil panicked when he woke up in the dark, only calming down when he smacked his head on a dino-intestinal support beam and blacked out. When he woke up again he took a lot of deep breaths and tried to “Think it through.” This involved him frantically searching for his phone, screaming his throat raw when he couldn’t find it, and then giving up all at once

    Phil found a somewhat comfortable part of the dinosaur, settled in, and started to cry. The only reason he knew was in a dinosaur was because the bastards who decided to seal him in a dino had left him a flashlight. He’d found it tucked in the inner pocket of his jacket where his phone had been. There was also a note, which explained his predicament.

    “Dear Mr. P.R. Jackson,” the note read.

    We regret to inform you that you have been selected by one of our clients for a hit. If you aren’t familiar with the term, a hit is another word for a contract killing. This is a criminal agreement between two parties in which one party contracts the other to perform a murder of a specific target.

    We wanted to inform you that your death was chosen by our employer, who has requested they remain unknown to you. Usually, this kind of death isn’t favored by our contractors, but as a great sum was involved (upwards of a million dollars) we decided to make an exception.

    You are inside of an animatronic dinosaur. A t-rex, to be precise. The cabin is the roomiest of the dinosaurs we looked into, and seems to be a fairly comfortable fit for a man of your height.

    Because your death will be drawn out and uncomfortable we have included a Gameboy Advance and several games for your entertainment. There are also some extra items to help you pass the time.  

    We did not include any food items as that would draw out your last moments. We apologize for the unpleasantness, and hope you will keep positive spirits during this trying time.

    Cordially, C.K.I.

    The really horrible thing about this was that Phil’s initials were not P.R.J. His middle name was Lawrence. They had dinoed the wrong man. He couldn’t spend his remaining time trying to figure out who had contracted the killing, or why, because he was the wrong guy.

    Eventually the glow of the Gameboy and the sound of his own breathing lulled him to sleep. When he woke up, he was still in a dino. For some reason he hadn’t anticipated that.

    “This is how I die,” Phil yelled. “Philip Lawrence Jackson, murdered inside a dino by inept contract killers. If I had a cliff nearby I’d step off it.”

    Someone sneezed in response. Phil screamed, turned the flashlight on, and waved it around the inside of the dino.

    “Did you say Lawrence?” a thick voice yelled. It was muffled, though definitely male, and somewhere outside the dinosaur.

    “Oh my god, a person,” Phil said. “Let me out!”

    “Right, maybe, but did you say Lawrence?” the voice insisted.

    “Why does that matter?” Phil snapped. “Yes, I did. Philip Lawrence Jackson. PLJ. My mother wanted to name me Philip Bernard Jackson because her favorite sandwich is a PB&J, but thankfully my father overruled her. Now I’m stuck in a dinosaur and I want you to let me out.”

    The voice got quiet, and Phil strained to hear it.

    “My God,” the voice said. “We got the wrong PLJ.”

    The person addressed responded, and made no effort to quiet his voice.

    “Back the hell up,” 2nd Man yelled. “This whole time we’ve been waiting for the wrong guy to kick the bucket?”

    “He says he’s Philip Lawrence Jackson,” 1st Man hissed.

    “Wait, how do we know he’s telling the truth?” 2nd Man said.

    Phil smashed his ear up against a wall and strained to hear.

    “Well, why would he lie? He was having a crazy person yelling fit,” 1st Man said. “He didn’t know we were out here.”

    “Aww, shit,” 2nd Man swore. “Maybe we should just leave him in there.”

    “No, no you should not,” Phil yelled. “You should definitely just open the dino and let me out.”

    “Oh shit, he’s listening,” 1st Man said.

    “Of course he is, he doesn’t have anything better to do,” 2nd Man said.

    “He has a gameboy.”

    “Let me out,” Phil demanded. “I don’t want to die inside a dino.”

    “You’ll see us if we let you out,”

    “Oh for heavens… listen, fellas, you’re not very smart criminals,” Phil bluffed. “Someone’s already seen you, or will very shortly. Letting me out really won’t change anything.”

    ‘I think there are worse criminals,” 1st Man argued.

    “Being a criminal is not very lucrative,” Phil argued.

    “Says you,” 2nd criminal said. “We got a lot of money for this one.”

    “And how much is it going to cost you for fucking up?” Phil asked. “Because sooner or later your client will see P.R.J. walking around and they’re going to want to crucify the idiots who killed the wrong P.J.”

    “Oh, fine,” 2nd Man said. “We’ll call 911.”

    After that, the voices were gone. Phil hummed to himself for a while, waiting. After a little while, panic started to settle in.

    “Umm, hello?” Phil called out. “Stupid criminals?”

    No one replied.

    “Hello?”

    Again, no one replied. Phil sat in the dinosaur and waited.