Someone's In My Head (WATTYS AWARD WINNER 2015)

Chapter Twelve (Pt. 1)

I woke up screaming.

The darkness was almost complete, except for the slanted lines of white light that formed a rigid, orderly pattern on the ground a few feet ahead of me. Beneath me, was something hard and rough, like unpolished cement. It took me few heartbeats to realize that the hard 'something' was my bed.

I surveyed my surroundings. There was a faint shadow of a cupboard at the right corner, and I could barely make out the contours of the table just opposite the table. A small round window nestled close to the uppermost part of the far wall, and light (most possibly moonlight) shone in through it, forming a slightly distorted white puddle in the ground. I rubbed my bare feet against the ground. It was rough, and I could feel the sharp sand cut my soles.

It was undoubtedly a prison cell. Or maybe a dungeon, as the crudeness of this hellish place might suggest. With the darkness, came the unseen fear, a prisoner's worst enemy. The fear seeped into the hearts of even the bravest men, robbing them of their courage, as well as the piece of them that made them sane.

One would literally deflate inside here.

I could feel the sweat dripping down from the side of my head. It wasn't warm at all―actually, it was quite cool―but my forehead seemed to be perspiring for no specific reason. My breaths came in ragged gasps, each one shallower than the one before.

This room was suffocating me.

"Help." I croaked weakly. My voice sounded like a fifty-year-old toad that had just recovered from a sore throat. I tried again, this time louder. "Help!"

With a sudden sense of panic, I stumbled forwards, grabbing on to the bars of the prison doors. As my hands came in contact with the iron bars, sharp white sparks leapt from the bars onto my fingers. Instantly, a numbing feeling spread rapidly across my hands, followed by the excruciating pain. I felt my knees buckle, and before I could stop it, I slumped onto the hard ground.

The bars were rigged with electricity.

"H...help."

I thought I was about to pass out, when―as if my prayers were miraculously answered―a bright flash of light appeared at the far end of the corridor outside. The light got brighter and brighter, and before my very eyes, a hooded figure emerged from the blinding whiteness.

It's that Lenny bastard! I thought, recoiling. But I was wrong.

The figure removed the hood that obscured its face. It was a man. His face was wrinkled and his long hair white, but I had a feeling that he wasn't as old as his appearance suggested. He had a pair of pale turquoise eyes, and a nose that was slightly crooked. He smiled at me as he approached.

My instinct told me that this was my captor, and that I had to run, but another voice in me forced me to stay rooted to the ground. I wasn't sure who he was, but the only thought that was cruising through my mind now was Gandalf the Grey, which wasn't very useful at all.

The man kneeled beside me and laid a hand on my trembling forehead. "Listen to me, Jarod, for we have no time to spare."

"Who...are you?" I gasped. My hands were still trembling from the shock.

The guy didn't seem to hear my question, or he chose not to. "You must find the puzzle." He said. "It's is the only thing that can free you from this place."

"What puzzle? And how am I supposed to find it when I'm stuck in this hellhole?" I yelled in frustration.

Still ignoring me, the man stood up. "I must leave now. Remember my advice. Find the puzzle."