My hand slaps the table in front of me. It almost acted of it's own accord. My brain sure as hell didn't tell it to do that. The shackles around my ankles are starting to cut in to my skin. I find that, oddly, it doesn't bother me as much as it might normally. I begin to look around the room that imprisons me. Just an ordinary room with a single fluorescent light in the center of the ceiling. The light beamed down on the metal table I'm sitting in front of that is bolted to the floor. There is nothing else, nothing that breaks the monotony of this God-forsaken hell hole of a room, except for the walls. The water stains form strange patterns that stretched through the length of the all too small room. If I had to guess, the walls may have been white at one point. Makes sense. White is placating, it keeps nervous people docile. It worked in theory. I found the abnormal presence of translucent lighting illuminating the strange patterns on the walls unsettling at best.
The sense of unease builds. It shouldn't be taking them this long. I start to scratch at my chained ankle. It bothered me more now. I'm not able to keep calm. The walls don't help. I swear I just saw the shape of something evil looking at me in the walls precarious design. Why are they leaving me here for this long? Someone should have come by. An increasing amount of dread builds as a horrific realization starts to form inside my mind. They have forgotten about me. As the thought sinks in, I hear it, an evil cackle coming from somewhere inside the room....
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