The door creaks as I push it open. A wave of fresh blood and an abhorring stench of human remains washes over me. Whips and chains are cluttered in the dark hall of the beasts. The tall walls have slit-like windows that glare down at me and I shrink into myself. Mangled bodies lie on the scratched wood of the cold, hard, floor, their frozen faces screaming out the expressions of fear and agony. A little way forward from where I stood, is next to a captive on all fours. His head downcast, but I could hint a faint smile on his lips, though, I’m unable to get a good look at his face. A little farther, I see a guard with his face covered by a black mask, wielding a giant saw as he stands with a stern stance. The thin strands of light reflect off the tainted metal and I can almost see the saw’s ridges curve into a smirk. The only thing I can make out of this guard is his bloodshot eyes as they look my way. I gulp, my mouth dry. A sense of dread takes over me the moment I take a step forward, passing by the already present ‘troublemakers’, with their arms and legs bound to a metal ball, ceasing them to move or escape from the hellish torment of a place.
Their expressions are grim, the color of their faces completely drained. Bones sticking out of their thin flesh, they must’ve been kept in a cellar, starving for months, I begin to assume. They avert their eyes from the closed, threatening door leading to ‘The Room of Salvation’, where an ominous bloodcurdling scream of a girl is coming from. Occasionally, I hear a muffled thud, or yell. Moments later I hear the sound of bones crack, and flesh ripping violently, followed by screams of the captives as they cry in absolute pain, begging for death. The torture seems to go on for hours. The girl continues to shriek as one of her body parts proceed to get amputated. I hear the sound of blood gushing out of her open wounds like a river rushing out into the abyss. I can hear her begging for the sweet mercy of death.
Around me, I see the faces of the captives change from grim to morbid. Their eyes expressionless, surrendering themselves to their upcoming demise. Hopelessness taking them over. The walls are painted a stark deep red, old polaroid’s of deceased captives plastered onto the walls beam down at me from over the years. It must be my imagination, but I can already taste the metallic flavor of blood in my mouth, the cool hard metal of the examining probe, and the chink clink it makes when it sometimes collide with my teeth. I can imagine the restraints of the binding chairs firmly holding my legs and arms in place, preventing me from thrashing and flailing my arms around, keeping me from struggling myself free. A shiver runs down my spine as sweat trickles down my temples. I bite my lip to the thought of it, hard enough to puncture a hole in my flesh. I brush my tongue over my fresh wound and taste the blood that oozes out of it. Odd enough, I keep my eyes fixed onto the giant door that’s in front of me, all the while exchanging glances with the dreadful looking guard trying to intimidate me with his blood covered saw. It feels like a nightmarish prison, yet, this is real, I thought to myself upon closing my eyes.
Moments later, the guard calls out my name, his voice hoarse and deep, full of hate, awakes me from my daydreaming and snaps me back to reality. I look up. My pulse quickens, and my hands sweat. I swallow the lump in my throat that has accumulated somehow. Blood is pounding through my head, but even that cannot block out the dread that is about to behold the second I swing the giant metal door open. Fear washes over me like a tidal wave that wasn’t expected yet.
The vile sight before my eyes leaves me in pure disgust. I see piles of dead bodies everywhere, the girl being tortured had her heart exposed, still beating. Her body, lifeless, however. Her eyes have a gleam of light to it, her mind must’ve broke for sure, I assume. A smile appears on my lips without me being aware of it. As sinister as this ought to be, I continue to fixate my gaze at the gory scene with a smile. Death dances with delight above me, she has come to take me with her.