The tungsten lighting flickered. The place was saturated in the stench of sweat and sewage. The paint on the walls and ceiling were beginning to peel, leaving the dirty cemented bricks beneath. Cigarette butts and toilet paper were pelted around the room. Grime stains carpeted the floor; blots of dried blood were splattered on one face of a wall.

A gentle "drip drip" of a leaking pipe reverberated in the background, falling like the ticking of a clock, causing heartbeats to beat along; a tempo far too quickly. The air was stifling and humid; it was warm which made it all the more smothering. It leaves a person with very little mood to think.

There are drag marks across the floor, numerous clawing on the walls and cracks in the edifice. One can almost feel the pain and fear emitted from the room, as though one was the victim in one of his numerous frolics in which he take much amusement from.

Make no mistakes. This is a place where memories are brought out. Wrongs made right. Where injustice and atrocities are trialed and accounted for. A place for vengeance and revenge, a holding cell whose sole purpose is to imprison and cage those sentenced to hell. There is absolutely no escaping from this room. Make no mistakes....this is where people are brought to die.

The lights flickered again. The sound of falling water fades into nothing. The process repeats.


-Zarae. A place that nobody ever wants to wake up to.