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My jaw slams into the stone-cold floor. The numerous rats skitter away into the darkness. He tells me food is ready, yet he carries nothing. He points in the direction of the rats.
I don't know how long I have been here. I gaze through the iron bars, high up on the wall. The moonlight streaks through, lighting the skeleton chained to the wall opposite me. I have had no contact for a while now. I wish I knew how long it's been. I'm slowly going out of my mind. Insanity seems like a comfort- at least I won't be aware of the predicament I'm in.
My eyes suddenly feel heavy. Tiredness has the better of me.
I wake, startled, with a burning sensation on my back. He's whipping me again. I moan in pain, wishing he would stop. He shouts something in a foreign language- I am unsure of its origin.
Confusion is an understatement.
My chin has a slight beard now. I shaved the day before I was captured, so that gives me a rough estimate.
It's been that long.
The morning sunlight is apparent now. I can feel the intense heat that comes with every day, coming. The heat becomes unbearable. The sweat drips like a waterfall, creating a puddle around me. I am forced to drink the water that seeps through the ceiling above me in order to survive. Such loss of water would kill me otherwise.
He's back again.
His large silhouette appears in the doorway. My shackles make metallic noises as they bash against the wall; I scamper away from him. I know I can't escape the pain, yet I still crouch in the corner. Why do I do this?
They've whittled me away to this coward, too afraid to even speak. I feel so weak and helpless.
The lacerations on my arm begin to seep as the blood drips out of them. He makes me drink it.
And then he goes again.
The midday heat is stronger than usual. The puddle of sweat begins to run towards the corner of the room, into the darkness. I crawl after it. It suddenly disappears.
There's a crack in the floor.
I use my chain and start hammering away at the floor. Piece by piece it tumbles away into the darkness below. I gaze into the hole in the floor. I spot a knife.
He's back, but this time I'm ready.
He opens the door, and steps towards me, hitting the whip into the palm of his other hand. He steps into range, and I lunge at his neck. The knife punctures his oesophagus, and he stumbles to the floor.
The keys!
I grab them, undo my shackles and leave the cell. I'm finally free. Home is beckoning. I know I can make it. After all I have endured, I know I'll get home.
Then I feel a burning sensation on my back.
I open my eyes.
It was a dream. There is no crack in the floor, no knife, no escape.
Whip, whip, whip.
It's only been 24 hours.
I weep, curling into a fetal position.
I'm trapped.
I don't know how long I have been here. I gaze through the iron bars, high up on the wall. The moonlight streaks through, lighting the skeleton chained to the wall opposite me. I have had no contact for a while now. I wish I knew how long it's been. I'm slowly going out of my mind. Insanity seems like a comfort- at least I won't be aware of the predicament I'm in.
My eyes suddenly feel heavy. Tiredness has the better of me.
I wake, startled, with a burning sensation on my back. He's whipping me again. I moan in pain, wishing he would stop. He shouts something in a foreign language- I am unsure of its origin.
Confusion is an understatement.
My chin has a slight beard now. I shaved the day before I was captured, so that gives me a rough estimate.
It's been that long.
The morning sunlight is apparent now. I can feel the intense heat that comes with every day, coming. The heat becomes unbearable. The sweat drips like a waterfall, creating a puddle around me. I am forced to drink the water that seeps through the ceiling above me in order to survive. Such loss of water would kill me otherwise.
He's back again.
His large silhouette appears in the doorway. My shackles make metallic noises as they bash against the wall; I scamper away from him. I know I can't escape the pain, yet I still crouch in the corner. Why do I do this?
They've whittled me away to this coward, too afraid to even speak. I feel so weak and helpless.
The lacerations on my arm begin to seep as the blood drips out of them. He makes me drink it.
And then he goes again.
The midday heat is stronger than usual. The puddle of sweat begins to run towards the corner of the room, into the darkness. I crawl after it. It suddenly disappears.
There's a crack in the floor.
I use my chain and start hammering away at the floor. Piece by piece it tumbles away into the darkness below. I gaze into the hole in the floor. I spot a knife.
He's back, but this time I'm ready.
He opens the door, and steps towards me, hitting the whip into the palm of his other hand. He steps into range, and I lunge at his neck. The knife punctures his oesophagus, and he stumbles to the floor.
The keys!
I grab them, undo my shackles and leave the cell. I'm finally free. Home is beckoning. I know I can make it. After all I have endured, I know I'll get home.
Then I feel a burning sensation on my back.
I open my eyes.
It was a dream. There is no crack in the floor, no knife, no escape.
Whip, whip, whip.
It's only been 24 hours.
I weep, curling into a fetal position.
I'm trapped.
Whip, whip, whip
You love it really, don't you!
Whip, whip, whip
You love it really, don't you!
Whip, whip, whip
Indeed.
I have more time on my hands now so I'll write more.
How's life BG?
I have more time on my hands now so I'll write more.
How's life BG?
So this is the reason why you haven't posted a story in ages: you've been locked up in a subterranean chamber by Jack the Whipper.
My jaw slams into the stone-cold floor. The numerous rats skitter away into the darkness. He tells me food is ready, yet he carries nothing. He points in the direction of the rats.
I don't know how long I have been here. I gaze through the iron bars, high up on the wall. The moonlight streaks through, lighting the skeleton chained to the wall opposite me. I have had no contact for a while now. I wish I knew how long it's been. I'm slowly going out of my mind. Insanity seems like a comfort- at least I won't be aware of the predicament I'm in.
My eyes suddenly feel heavy. Tiredness has the better of me.
I wake, startled, with a burning sensation on my back. He's whipping me again. I moan in pain, wishing he would stop. He shouts something in a foreign language- I am unsure of its origin.
Confusion is an understatement.
My chin has a slight beard now. I shaved the day before I was captured, so that gives me a rough estimate.
It's been that long.
The morning sunlight is apparent now. I can feel the intense heat that comes with every day, coming. The heat becomes unbearable. The sweat drips like a waterfall, creating a puddle around me. I am forced to drink the water that seeps through the ceiling above me in order to survive. Such loss of water would kill me otherwise.
He's back again.
His large silhouette appears in the doorway. My shackles make metallic noises as they bash against the wall; I scamper away from him. I know I can't escape the pain, yet I still crouch in the corner. Why do I do this?
They've whittled me away to this coward, too afraid to even speak. I feel so weak and helpless.
The lacerations on my arm begin to seep as the blood drips out of them. He makes me drink it.
And then he goes again.
The midday heat is stronger than usual. The puddle of sweat begins to run towards the corner of the room, into the darkness. I crawl after it. It suddenly disappears.
There's a crack in the floor.
I use my chain and start hammering away at the floor. Piece by piece it tumbles away into the darkness below. I gaze into the hole in the floor. I spot a knife.
He's back, but this time I'm ready.
He opens the door, and steps towards me, hitting the whip into the palm of his other hand. He steps into range, and I lunge at his neck. The knife punctures his oesophagus, and he stumbles to the floor.
The keys!
I grab them, undo my shackles and leave the cell. I'm finally free. Home is beckoning. I know I can make it. After all I have endured, I know I'll get home.
Then I feel a burning sensation on my back.
I open my eyes.
It was a dream. There is no crack in the floor, no knife, no escape.
Whip, whip, whip.
It's only been 24 hours.
I weep, curling into a fetal position.
I'm trapped.
I don't know how long I have been here. I gaze through the iron bars, high up on the wall. The moonlight streaks through, lighting the skeleton chained to the wall opposite me. I have had no contact for a while now. I wish I knew how long it's been. I'm slowly going out of my mind. Insanity seems like a comfort- at least I won't be aware of the predicament I'm in.
My eyes suddenly feel heavy. Tiredness has the better of me.
I wake, startled, with a burning sensation on my back. He's whipping me again. I moan in pain, wishing he would stop. He shouts something in a foreign language- I am unsure of its origin.
Confusion is an understatement.
My chin has a slight beard now. I shaved the day before I was captured, so that gives me a rough estimate.
It's been that long.
The morning sunlight is apparent now. I can feel the intense heat that comes with every day, coming. The heat becomes unbearable. The sweat drips like a waterfall, creating a puddle around me. I am forced to drink the water that seeps through the ceiling above me in order to survive. Such loss of water would kill me otherwise.
He's back again.
His large silhouette appears in the doorway. My shackles make metallic noises as they bash against the wall; I scamper away from him. I know I can't escape the pain, yet I still crouch in the corner. Why do I do this?
They've whittled me away to this coward, too afraid to even speak. I feel so weak and helpless.
The lacerations on my arm begin to seep as the blood drips out of them. He makes me drink it.
And then he goes again.
The midday heat is stronger than usual. The puddle of sweat begins to run towards the corner of the room, into the darkness. I crawl after it. It suddenly disappears.
There's a crack in the floor.
I use my chain and start hammering away at the floor. Piece by piece it tumbles away into the darkness below. I gaze into the hole in the floor. I spot a knife.
He's back, but this time I'm ready.
He opens the door, and steps towards me, hitting the whip into the palm of his other hand. He steps into range, and I lunge at his neck. The knife punctures his oesophagus, and he stumbles to the floor.
The keys!
I grab them, undo my shackles and leave the cell. I'm finally free. Home is beckoning. I know I can make it. After all I have endured, I know I'll get home.
Then I feel a burning sensation on my back.
I open my eyes.
It was a dream. There is no crack in the floor, no knife, no escape.
Whip, whip, whip.
It's only been 24 hours.
I weep, curling into a fetal position.
I'm trapped.