SEVENTH

Prolouge

I woke up in a room, or precisely, a cell, on a mattress. I sat up, only to be bombarded with the squeaks coming from the bed frame. The cell looked like an old one which possibly lasted millenniums. the walls were invaded with thick layers of dirt that could possibly create a new layer of earth's crust, and a small, wooden table with a stool. The lights hanging above the ceiling flickered, sometimes revealing a small fan and a hole to replenish fresh air.

I ignored the squeaks and stepped out of that mouldy bed and went to the door. With a slight twist of the doorknob, the door opened with a low-pitched sound, as if to complain me for disturbing its sleep. And in front of the door, was a stage-like platform. I stepped out of the cell, realising that six similar cells, with mine, were shaped in a circle around the platform. It was then when it hit me that everything was black and white, not even a single shade of grey could be seen. All I see, is pure black, and…pure white.