My very breath was ragged, released from the gaps of my lips in rapid succession.
The severity of my breathing, however poor it was, was more than sufficient to convey the depth of my rage, dissatisfaction, and exhaustion.
To say I was frustrated would be an understatement. It would be foolish to go forth and declare the obvious that, yes, in my current state of affairs, I was a reflection of one who was approaching the ultimate breaking point.
Everything is going to hell.
Who wouldn't be angry?
Given all the times I've completely lost it in the past and the utter horrors that have ensued because of that fact, the rage that was consuming my entire body at this very moment was, by far, reaching a conclusion damn near disturbing.
Time meant nothing as such rage seemingly strove to intensify with each passing second, minute, and hour like magma rising in a volcano ready to erupt at any moment.
I took another shaky breath, my eyes flashing crimson, blood red, fixated through the spiky blonde strands of my hair ahead of me.
Fixated just on the doors which imprisoned me.
Such unbreakable double doors, bearing the insignia of my own demon sealing, towered over me like two imposing statues. Its sheer existence mocked me, igniting the fire in the depths of my soul.
To make matters worse, the two doors were secured shut by snake-shaped handles that remained locked no matter how hard I pried, flung, or slashed at them.
The doors remained locked, pushing me away and keeping me locked in.
I'll grant it that the overall prison that held me captive, forcing me to stay fixed in place for—fuck knows how long—seemed damn near impenetrable.
There were no weaknesses.
No blind spots.
No loopholes.
No answers.
But not only was the mythical prison strong, but it was also very hard to recognize at first. I noticed that the entire prison seemed to be entirely enveloped in a spell that affects the hostage's mind and draws out anything they desire, manifesting it all in their world.
