Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit.
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He wakes up to silence.
It takes a brief moment for his eyes to get used to the darkness that surrounds him.
He is in a room. A room that starts to suffocate him the moment his eyes trail around the empty space.
So much empty space.
It should be peaceful, but it feels hollow, lifeless, like a bottomless pit that swallows one's sanity. A blackhole that serves as a pariah for the ominous, the barred.
The room is bare. There is not one single piece of furniture that occupies the floor other than the wooden stakes that line the four walls of the room that seemingly stand as a makeshift fence.
He is chained to one stake. Shackles enclose his wrists in a death grip while the chains ensure of his captivity.
The walls are made of thick logs from the sturdiest wood, but are devoid of decorations, no single protruding nail in sight. There are two small windows on either side of the room, sealed with barricades of lumber. No light from the moon can enter the room, except for one source of meagre light.
A candle.
At the centre of the wooden floor, lies a melting candle. The light from its flame casts shades that fill the walls with haunting abstract images. The dark obscurities that beat witness to the soundless hum of nocturnal whispers, as they sing the Ode to Hades- a lifeless melody reminiscent of inevitable demise.
The whispers lurk around every nook of the room where the light is forbidden, waiting to scream the throbbing tune that chills and breaches the barrier between flesh and soul.
His head throbs, aches. But it has nothing to do with his odd situation.
He cannot remember anything. He remembers nothing.
He takes a deep breath, before he latches onto his last bit of hope. The last remnant of stability that never fails to straighten his crooked life.
He reaches for the cold chain hanging around his neck. He touches the cross at the end and kisses it, pausing for a few moments to reflect. He raises the pendant and makes a sign of the cross before reciting the Lord's Prayer like a chant.
He knows every word by heart. He knows every verse by rhythm.
He is taught all prayers at an early age, with his parents both a devout servant of God.
