I vaguely remember the day that I came to be, they stripped me of my clothes, and kicked me over and over, I felt as their fists pounded into my face slamming me to the floor, there was a certain rhythm to it like the beating of a drum, I stared as my blood made a small pile around me it felt warm and smelled of salt. In the months I had been here I have slowly forgotten my name, and all that I had known of who I was. What I know now is what has been given to me by them, my name is prisoner 213.
I laid there on the cold stone floor as I did every day, there were no windows but yet there was still a slight breeze that drifted through the room, as it came it caused the candle to flicker, I flinched every time it did worried as I was that it might go out and then I would be left in the dark. I didn't want to be left alone in the dark, the shadows whispered inconceivable things in my ears, desires that were not mine, words that I could neither discern as truth or lies. Outside of the candle the room was considerably small, I could take two reasonably long strides and go from one end of the room to another; not that there was much point in this; there was no bed, and the minimal food I received, was given to me by a slot in the door. A few seconds after the food would be placed through the slot, I would hear a slight whisper "You are Prisoner 213, you belong to the one who opens the door, and his wish is your wish." After the brief statement I would be left alone to my silence, when these encounters first started to occur I would imagine that they continued on and imagine a conversation with the hushed voice, I would imagine that he too was being held prisoner and that on the other side of that door was his room, after a while though I stopped imagining. It was the shadows that made me stop, when they would come they laughed at me mocking me for my stupidity, they told me I knew that he was my jailer, they told me that prisoner 213 wasn't really my name, that as a man of my status I should respect myself more; whatever that meant. Obviously the shadows were wrong because if prisoner 213 wasn't my name then what was.
The door had only opened once, maybe a few months after I came to be. The man who opened it was reasonably attractive, he wore a suit that resembled what the shadows said would be worn to a funeral. When he came he didn't speak, just waved to me to follow him. We walked a little bit in morbid silence and passed doors, all of which had a bloody X marked upon them, we continued this way until we reached a room. The room was not much larger than mine, its floors were covered in white tile, and corners were filled with shadows that felt as if they might come together to form a four taloned claw that would consume the room. In the middle of the room was a man stripped very much like I was, his arms and legs were bound to the table by rope and his mouth was covered with an iron gag, finally the attractive man spoke.
He smiled at me as he spoke, a soft pleasantness was to be felt by his words, "Prisoner 213, I would like to ask you some questions, may I?" He didn't wait for my response, "Who am I?"
"I do not know." I responded.
He looked momentarily displeased but then it passed and he smiled again, "Of course you do I'm the man that opened the door." Part of me understood then. "Now who do you belong to?"
"I belong to the man that opened the door."
"Good, now what if I wished something, would you wish it to?"
"Yes."
His smile grew at this response, I felt like he was proud of me, it was a good feeling. "One more thing what if I told you my wish was that this man here was dead, what would you say?"
Suddenly the shadows stopped whispering and shouted at me to run as fast as I could, they told me that this man on the table was my friend and I didn't want to kill them, but I ignored them because the attractive man wanted him dead. "I would say that I want him to die."
"Then kill him." I knew all I had to do was as he said, he would be proud of me, and I could finally escape the shadows of that room.
"No..." I didn't know why I said it, but I knew it was the wrong answer.
"I see," Goosebumps crept up my spine at that moment like cold steel cutting through my flesh, "I'm disappointed, but its ok we'll try again later."
Much time had gone by since that had happened, every day I thought he would come back and I would get a second chance, I would make it right, I would escape the shadows, but it seemed he would never come. After a while I stopped hoping looking only to the candle for my life, until finally he came again. When he opened the door he didn't need to wave to me, I immediately followed; I no longer took interest in the doors that surrounded me, my only focus was the goal that would be given. We walked the same path we took before until we reached the room. In the middle of it was another man who I felt looked very much like the last. Once we stopped the attractive man immediately went to asking me questions.
"Prisoner 213, who am I?"
"The man that opened the door."
"Who do you belong to?"
"I belong to the man that opened the door."
"If I wished something, would you wish it to?"
"Yes."
"If I told you my wish was that this man here was dead, what would you say?"
"I would say that I want him to die."
"Then kill him."
"As you wish." I took three small steps over to the table each step feeling as if it extended for miles on end, when I reached the table, I looked at the man strapped to it and his eyes widened in alarm. His muffled screams bled through the gag, I found this slightly annoying. Next to the table was something I hadn't noticed, there was a stool and on that stool was a tray of silver tools. The attractive man came over and guided me, first he had me take a needle and inject it into the man saying it was adrenaline so that the man could not pass out, then he had me take a small hammer, I slammed it down on the bound man's hands and feet over and over each time I did I was rewarded with the crunching sound of broken bones, I did this relentlessly until all the bones in his hands and feet were broken and my hands were sore and painted red. Next I was handed a knife and I slowly started to peel the skin off of his body noticing how it felt in my hand, the whispers said it felt like that of cruel sandpaper. It was at that moment that I became aware to a dripping sound, two to be correct the first was the man's blood as it slid off the table and fell to the floor, it dripped at a quick uneven rate. The second dripping sound was a funnel held just ever so slightly over the man's head, out of it slowly poured water that fell onto his face in the exact same place over and over, it fell in such a rhythmic way like that of death's stop watch.
Finally the attractive man broke my concentration on the steady drops of water "Finish him, show me that you share my wishes." And I did, I took the knife and stabbed through the man's chest, as I slowly dragged it down his stomach I heard one finale muffled scream before he fell silent forever. I continued cutting farther and farther against the resistance of his bone, organs, and muscles until the knife cut clean through his body, I noticed that the floor was covered by a deep puddle of blood that splashed as I stepped in it and it seeped into ever crack between the tiles highlighting their rotten features. Then I looked at him, there was not one piece of him that was not stained red and sticky with blood, his hands and feet were as flat as paper, and his entrails told the story of his being gutted like a pig, I looked at all this and felt no remorse.
The attractive man started speaking again, "I'm so proud of you it took ten years but it was worth it, you are ready." As I took his words in and realized how much had been taken from me I noticed a sharp pain and realized I was still holding the knife, I then heard the ever familiar whispers of the shadows.
"Kill him."
