CELL

/ TWELVE /

Ryan, if that really was his name, opened his eyes.

He welcomed the darkness surrounding him and pulled it close, feeling safe in its solitude. Bringing his knees up to his chest, he rested his chin on them and wrapped his arms around his legs.

He was in the cage and felt both claustrophobic and agoraphobic at the same time. The bars were close. The room was vast. The opposing sensations danced across his heart, leaving it thudding from their rapid footsteps. He focussed on the feeling that it could burst from his chest and foxtrot out from his prison, leaving him an empty cavity to mourn its loss.

Calm, he told it. Easy. Slooooow.

It ignored his pleas, waiting to ease its beating on its own terms.

Did he have control of anything anymore? If his own body would disregard his instruction, would he ever escape?

The darkness wrapped him as tightly as he held onto his legs. Ssshhh, it said. We understand. We're here for you. He sighed, closed his eyes and allowed it to soothe the beast in his chest, which it did quickly.

He silently thanked it and reached out for the mattress. He would lay on it and wait until something happened. When it did, he'd let it take him where it wished, then would wait for the next time and the next. He felt defeated, but couldn't discern exactly why.

He remembered being on the bed and talking to Dr Bradley. She was playing with his mind, trying to stir it up so he would lash out or shrink into himself. He couldn't recall what had happened in the end. He was back in the cell. How did he get there? What was the culmination of their meeting? Did he find anything out? Give anything away?

If only he could recall.

It'd come to him. He needed to have faith, but was struggling to think what even that was like.

Oh well. The darkness would keep him safe for the moment, and the moments were all he had because, when they lengthened into hours or days, they blurred and became indistinct entities he couldn't keep track of.

"Hello?" said a voice.

It was a deep, resounding sound that vibrated through him. He imagined the speaker to be a large man. Stocky, with tattooed sleeve and a long, well-trimmed beard. The man was not afraid, but he was curious.

The cage containing the man wasn't close to his, but the voice carried, as if the acoustics of even a paper bag would feel honoured to be ridden by the timbre of such a sound.

"Sshhh!"

The hissed warning was from someone situated between the two of them. Ryan was pleased he hadn't had to utter it himself.

"Who's there? Who's that? Where the fuck am I?"

"Sshhh!"

"Stop telling me to shut up and start telling me what the hell is going on."

The man was irate, and Ryan could tell thunder was brewing in him.

"You've got to be quiet!"

Whoever was issuing the warning was being brave, and Ryan wished he could have that same fire in his belly. It would prompt him into action, something he had felt only a short time before. Where had it gone, and why so suddenly? How had it been extinguished so completely?

"Don't be trying to tell me what to do, or I'll come over and rip your fucking head off."

There was no answer this time, just the sound of faint laughter, drowned out by the opening of the far door and the sharp, swift ingress of light.