The hole and the scared man

The hole and the scared man whispers stories

joana Lost unicorn trying to be kind
Autoplay OFF   •   2 years ago
What if what you think about this story is completely wrong??

The hole and the scared man

A metalic door was opened for him showing nothing but darkness on the other side.

He tryed his best not to show he was shaking in fear of what was waiting for him inside that hole, but didn't do a good job at it.

They threw him a matress, sheet and a half eaten blanket. As hard as he tryed he couldn't manage to keep that blanket close to his nose, for it smelled of something rotting.

Sitting in a corner all he could ear was the sound of rats eating at the something they'd probabily put in a hole suposed to be the toilet to stop them from coming up.

Listening to that, somehow he knew it wouldn't be long until his rodents companions came for a visit.

He was slightely afraid of the rats, but what realy terrefied him were the whispers and deep breaths he could hear coming from the dark walls.

He couldn't help think they were talking about him, even though he didn't have the faintest ideia of who 'they' were.

Maybe someone who had been left in this place rotting for long enough to become part of its bricks, maybe someone who had made this place his home.

Thinking about this, sudenly a look of terror apeared in his eyes.

'What kind of person could feel at home in this place?'

And that terror didn't left him all through the night and what he assumed were the next two days.

He couldn't see the light of day in that dreadful pit of lost souls,

but he assumed the days passing from the meals someone had left on the filthy floor.

In those days you could find him sitting in fetal position in the outer left corner of that chamber, shaking, open eyed in the company of his friends,

the rats and the soon discovered spiders and cockroachers.

He knew this was not procedure, he knew he, as a human being, had the right to decency, despite all the crimes he comited in what felt know as a past life.

But his corrupted soul did not believe his brain and he let himself rot for that weekend...

...until someone - a guard - came to take him is to his new home for the next nine years, cell number 31.

As he arrived his new companions (this time humans) ask with an already knowing grin:

'How was hell? Heard old Bernie doesn't scream the prayers anymore.'

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