He lay there, cramped inside a tiny box room. He was due awake by now, but he sleeps on, unknowing of what horrors lie ahead of him. Plain white walls. No door. No windows. No exit. Just four walls, no wider than a four by four plank. I don't know why he's here, or if we'll ever let him go, but I do know that he must've done something truly awful to land himself here. It's not a reward, that's for sure.
He doesn't know it yet, but he is in for the worst time of his life, and once it's over he'll be begging for the sweet release of death. What can I say, I'm good at my job, and he's gonna find that out sooner or later.
Patient, I wait, watching him until the very moment he opens his eyes. He's not your everyday national threat, there's something about him that screams normal. He looks like your average, well kept man. He has a neatly trimmed beard, long, brown hair and bright blue eyes. I've never seen someone so distinctly average enter this place before.
Y'know, I kinda hope he's dead. He looks so peaceful. So happy. So, um what's the word, fucked. If he wakes up, he is fucked. On the bright side, ah hell, there is no bright side. He's either dead and had his life cut abruptly short, or he's alive and is gonna wish he had. As I let my thoughts take hold of me, I hear a groan through the speaker. Cursing under my breath, I turn my eyes to see him taking his first look around his new home. He's awake.
