The Shadow of Death

Chapter 13

Warning: scenes of torture start in this chapter. Reader discretion advised 

        Darkness. That's all Garret could see. Pure, unrelenting darkness. He had no idea if his eyes were open or closed. If he was asleep or awake. All he knew is that the darkness was pressing him in on all sides. Suffocating him.

Garret slowly tried to move, starting with his hands. He could feel them moving, but he couldn't see them moving. He then moved his head side to side and blinked as hard as he could. Still darkness.

Had he been blinded? Or was it possible to be somewhere this dark? Am I dead? He wondered, squinting into the dark, looking for Death, but the skeletal figure wasn't there. It's too cold in here anyways for me to be in the underworld, and we all know that's where I'm going. This is definitely a different form of hell though. Garret thought as he rubbed his eyes and squinted again, hoping that would help him see through the darkness. Still nothing.

Letting out a shaky breath, Garret braced his hands on either side of him, reaching for the cold, damp floor, but both of his hands hit a wall first. His arms weren't even fully extended and he felt a wall. This couldn't be happening.

Garret sat up and moved to where his hands were touching the walls, feeling around it with his back. Both shoulders hit the wall, but his back didn't. Garret let out a sigh of relief, it was just a corner. His panic eased slightly, but then his mind started reeling again, wondering how big the cell actually was. It was still too dark to tell, but his eyes were adjusting slightly, so he knew he wasn't completely blind.

Bracing his hands on the walls on either side of him, Garret slowly stood up, keeping his head ducked down, in case the roof was low. Once he was fully standing up, he lifted his head so he was standing at his normal height and he could feel the tips of his hair brushing the roof. Garret quietly swore and lifted his hands up, not getting very high until they brushed the roof.

Okay Garret, that's fine, it's just a low roof and you're a pretty tall guy. It's fine. You've been in buildings with lower roofs than this, you're fine. He thought to himself as he started walking around the perimeter of the cell, keeping one hand on the wall. He got a little bit past the length of his arm until he walked face first into the next wall. He did the same thing with each wall, and found the two short walls to be an arm length long, and the two longer walls were a few paces. But that didn't help him much. He still wasn't even sure if he could lay down fully. With a small grunt, Garret sat down and slowly laid back, so he was laying flat on the ground. He couldn't even straighten his legs fully without hitting the wall opposite of him, he had to lay at an angle to fit. And even then, he only just fit.

Fuck, this is a small cell. He thought, feeling his panic rising again. He was deep underground, in a small dark cell, locked in by a thick iron door. It was cold. It was dark. It was deathly quiet. The more Garret thought about it, the worse he felt, the more bad scenarios played through his racing mind.

His breath hitched in his throat and he felt like someone was sitting on his chest. His legs started trembling uncontrollably, forcing him to sit back down in the corner of the room, but the shaking didn't stop. Garret felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead as his breathing got even more rapid.

Garret abruptly stood up and started scrabbling at the stones, trying to break through the thick walls, trying to get a breath of fresh air or a speck of light to break the impenetrable darkness. He took a few step backs and ran into the wall as hard as he could, but he just ricocheted off, falling to the ground, knees scraping against the rough floor.

"Come on!" Garret panted, his heartbeat pounded in his head, it was getting even harder to breathe. He was going to suffocate in this cell. A small sob escaped, echoing through the cell as Garret continued scraping at the rocks, feeling a warm sticky substance dripping off his hands, sliding down his arm.