Illusions

Chapter 3 | Breaking Out

I woke up slowly, my mind still in a haze as it comprehends the last few moments of consciousness I had before I was rudely knocked out.

Kelsey.

I shot up like a bullet after that, my brain instantly regretting that decision as a pounding headache came through my skull. I winced quietly and brought my hand up to the place I could feel the pain, to find a thick liquid substance coating the back of my head and good percentage of my hair.

Pulling my hand away I gazed at my fingers in the dull light that filled this place. My hand was covered in dark thick red blood, the feeling new to my fingers. I gazed at the blood that seemed to have covered my entire hand inspecting it like it held all of life's answers.

It was wet, seemingly dry parts of blood coating  the surface of the blood. Telling me it had most likely been there for a long time if the liquid was this thick.

I shivered quietly and finally gave myself some time to look at the room. It was cold and damp, the concrete surrounding this place seeming old and stained with water and what seemed like blood, the metal bars at the front of the cage glimmering in the faint light that hung from the little light bulb outside the cage. The ceiling of the cell made me unsure as I studied each individual crack, the place seemed that with one light push might fall to the ground. Looking down I saw that I sat on a crappy mattress a couple of its springs breaking the surface around my feet, the sharp blades most likely being a good weapon and should be taken away. But I guess the guards and such thought they could over power anything and everything, so leaving the springs in the mattress was a sort of false hope to the captive inside the jail cell type place.

I shivered quietly and brought my arms around me, my black singlet was still on and my jeans were the same. Except I was bare foot which seemed kind of mean and uncalled for, why my boots? Was there something wrong with them that made them so bad they were taken away from me?

My hair begun draping in front of my face, the feeling bringing a sort of comfort that other things couldn't bring to me as the overwhelming feeling of impending doom begun in the pit of my stomach. Causing my throat to feel as if it was closing, the adrenaline rush from trying to kill Kelsey was over as I sat shivering in a jail cell that held nothing but a mattress, not even a bathroom!

Turning around to face the other wall, as if this concrete wall behind me would be something different to the other two I've already seen I gazed at its features, hoping to get my mind off the situation. Instead of finding something comforting or distracting I found a long paragraph, the thing seeming as if it had been craved with a tooth or claw of some sorts. I slowly begun to read.

We're all screwed. I don't mean it as if life's just gonna suck but there's something about these dungeons that curse whoever entered with bad luck and misfortune. It could be a witches curse or maybe just a superstition that people choose to believe in, but everyone saids the same thing and I know something is in these chambers. Because I'm being sentenced to death for a crime that I didn't commit while my pregnant mate and 5 year old son are forced to live on without me. The curse of these chambers follow you.

~ Greg Kelag---

The writing seemed cut off after that, as it seems this 'Greg' guy couldn't even finish his surname, as the last letters were scratched along the wall...as if he was rudely pulled away.

After that I gasped loudly knowing most likely why he was pulled away so suddenly. I brought my hands to my mouth and instantly my legs pushed me backwards away from that wall which only held pain and torture, the feeling seeming as if it was seeping into my bones.