In my mind

Light does not always mean good

WARNING
This chapter contains swearing, torture and maybe disturbing events. Do not read further if you can't handle such things

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Sleepily, I opened my eyes. Weird, I couldn't see anything... It was dark, no not dark. It was pitch black. Not the kind of black at night or from closing your eyes. This blackness was ten times that dark and maybe more. I could not distinguish even the slightest shadows. I had no sense of where I was, how it looked around me. The only thing I knew was that I was sitting on a bed. A fragile thing of steel with a thin mattress and a filfthy piece of cloth that may once have been a blanket. And the strangest thing of it all, I had no memory. I didn't know my name, where my home was, what I'd done before I woke up here, I could remember none of it. In fact, I didn't even know if I was male or female, not that it mattered right now. Still, I touched my chest. A male then. Feeling my arms, legs I guessed I was in my mid-teens. I wanted to hear my voice but too afraid to make any unnessecary noise I decided to shut the hell up. Maybe I was still tired, maybe I was still dreaming. Maybe I would wake up any time now, back in my house in my familiar bed wherever that was. But no, no matter how much I tried to force my eyes open they didn't want to look. Starting to feel uneasy I reached up to touch my eye.

Ouch!

I had poked myself right in my left eye. Now that I thought about it, I could feel my eyelid closing and opening. But when I touched my right eye I felt something strange. Was that... stitches? Yes, it very much was. Something just hit me! I did not feel. Well, obviously I could feel things and my fear was indeed real. But I couldn't feel pain. In shock of this realization I began to truly touch my body. I found several injuries and wounds all over myself. I had cuts and bruises on my arms and deeper jagged slashes on my legs. The skin around my ankles had begun to flake... The sign of shackles? This could only mean I've been here for a while. But why couldn't I remember anything?! This was starting to get on my nerves. Could someone please just explain to me? How hard could it be?

I immediately regretted that thought. Somewhere to the left I heard a door open with a groan and quick, loud footsteps followed. Suddenly, someone gripped my arm and I swear I must have jump a meter up in the air with a shriek. "You need not worry" said a hoarse male voice next to my ear. I shrunk back trying to get away from the weird voice and nasty breath. It really smelled as if he'd eaten rotten meat, and still had two weeks old bits left in his mouth. "All you have to do is follow me. And be obedient.". I didn't really have much choice, it was better than staying here. I thought. He began tugging on my sleeve. How could he see? The space outside the room I'd been in was just as lightless.

We walked around for several minutes turning left and left and left and then right and up some stairs and then down again only to take another stair up. I started to think they tried to confuse me but how could I possibly be more confused than I already was. The man leading me refused to answer any of my questions. He stopped so abruptly that I walked straight into him. "Where are w-"
"Quiet!"
He began knocking on a door (or wall, how should I know) in a weird combination. It opened with a groan as eerie as the first door had. The brightness blinded me. Pure white light burned my eye. Even when closing my eye the light was unbearable. Without waiting for me to regain my senses he pulled my sleeve, beckoning me forward. I was put in a wooden chair and he fastened my wrists and ankles tying me to the chair with shackles. Confused I opened my eye. Fear crept into every crevice of my body, my mind, as I saw the table beside the chair.

On the table lay several tools. I didn't recognize most of them but that didn't prevent me from feeling the color drain from my face. I began to shake. I did recognize scissors, different types of knives and scalpels, saws of different sizes. The man came into view. His scalp was hairless and the hair on the sides was turning gray with age. His thin lips formed a cruel smile and the wickedness glowed in his red tinted eyes. He was short and bony but had a firm grip as he fastened as semicircle of iron over my throat.