False realities

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

My face feels damp as my cheek rests on something cold and hard. My eyes screw tight as I try to open them, getting a tiny glimpse of fluorescent lighting. The bulb is flashing in slow succession, making it hard to focus. The flashes are dizzying.

Pushing myself up off the ground proves to be harder than I anticipated. My muscles feel like jello.

What happened? How did I get here?

Glancing around, I’m in the dungeons. Silver bars line two walls, while decrepit concrete lines the other.

The smell down here is nauseating combined with that damn flashing light.

“Hello?” I croak. My throat feels as if I’ve swallowed cotton and sand together.

The sound of my voice echoed off the walls, bouncing around me and creating the illusion that I was in a cave. I suppose that is one of many torture tactics that we use for the unfortunate souls that find themselves down here.

I walk around the cell, looking for any signs of life, but nothing. Not even an ant. T