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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1087687-From-Inside-These-Walls
Rated: ASR · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #1087687
This story is an interpretation of the emotions one goes through when they are trapped.
From Inside These Walls

          I cannot remember much about my life before. It is as everything has slowly faded away, leaving me with only memories of the pain and anguish inflicted upon me by two people I had never seen before. I do remember the party, but only the last few minutes are clear. Vivid pictures of the bright colored dresses worn by breathtaking women dance carelessly through my mind. The ballroom pulsed with a life all its own, and the beauty of all things surrounding me are forever etched in my memory. What happened next is a complete blackout. I remember seeing a tall, balding man in an old black suit speaking to a larger man who appeared to be his henchman. The next thing I remember was what I can only adequately describe as a medieval dungeon, a dungeon that became my own personal hell.

          The room was not much larger than a prison cell, and the only exit was a swinging door twenty feet aboove me. The damp, strangling air was only one of the many elements which tortured me daily. My kidnappers as I shall call them gave me only a molded piece of bread for a meal, and I was forced to drink bath and toilet water that had poured in from a leaky drain and collected into one corner of the room., The insects and rodents were a constant bother to me, as they would wake me in the night by biting at my arms and ankles. The darkness in the room was also an immense torture. The only light allowed in the room was at mealtime when the door was left open just enough to see mold growing on the side of my meal. Although my spirits were incomprehensibly low, I found myself wondering if there was a way to escape this dreary tomb. My cigarette lighter did not provide much light, so I conserved the fluid in hopes that it would prove to be useful if I ever found a way out.

         On the third or fourth day of my imprisonment, I noticed something interesting. As the light poured into the room at mealtime, I saw a large branch of wood and some dried leaves. How these things avoided getting wet I can't quite understand. That didn't matter at the time, and as soon as that door closed, I began collecting it up into one pile. Carefully I constructed a few torches, and I immediately used my lighter to ignite one of them. The room was instantly filled with the bright orange light from the flames. I must say the room looked much better in the darkness, for I now could see the bones, skulls, and rotting corpses of animals and even other people, those who fell to the same fate as I was destined for. The sight of the pests in the corner feeding on the decaying flesh made me even more aware of the seriousness of my situation.

         For hours, I simply sat there and imagined the horrors of dying in such a hellish place. How long would I suffer? Would it be over in a few weeks, or would I be forced to endure for months, maybe even years? With the way the torture continued, years seemed to be the most probable. After all, if I was allowed to die quickly, there would be no more amusements for my captors. No, I was certain that my continuous agony would not end soon, and death was all I had to anticipate.

          I noticed something unusual while I was sitting there, my mind cluttered with thoughts such as these. A small opening between two of the stones caught my eye. The light from my torch exposed an opening hidden on the other side. I'm still not sure what I expected to find behind that wall, but I dug furiously at the crumbling mortar between the blocks with my old pocket knife. I worked straight for hours at a time, only stopping when the kidnappers came back to laugh and throw things at me once again. I usually had to work in the dark, fearing that I would be discovered by those above me.

          After a few days, I finished loosening the block. I waited until after the last meal was thrown down, and while the kidnappers slept I slowly and carefully removed the huge stone. When I ignited my torch, I was amazed to see a narrow tunnel that seemed to go on forever. Although I was weak from being held captive so long, I found the strength to crawl into the little opening on my belly and inch my way forward. Rocks and tree roots protruded from the walls of the tunnel, many of which cut deep into my skin, but I knew I must carry on. With each inch I crawled, I hoped that I was getting closer to the outside world.

         Time no longer existed for me. Darkness surrounded me day and night now, and there was no way to determine how far I had been, or how far I had to go. Complications slowed me in my expedition, but I was determined to make it through. One problem that almost halted my progress was how narrow the tunnel had became. My arms had been straight in front of me, and now I had no way of moving them back. Many places were so narrow , in fact, that I had to wear down the walls with my knife, even my fingers. I came to the conclusion that although the darkness hindered me, it was better that I wasn't able to see. The visualization of my surroundings may have been too much for me to handle. I rarely slept, for I was sure that the next few feet could lead me to freedom. So I forced myself onward, my muscles aching and cramping with every movement.

         Just as I was ready to abandon all hope, I saw a faint light shining from around the corner. It must have been close to 200 yards away, but it gave me added strength, which I desperately needed to continue. I struggled and fought any time the tunnel narrowed, and I did everything I could to hurry my way forward. I could feel the adrenaline pumping through my body with every inch I moved until I got to the end of the tunnel. What I had reached was another stone wall, and the light was pouring through a crack between the stones. Although I was barely able to hold my knife, I refused to give up. So I slowly worked on wearing away the large stone, fearful my strength would fail just before I finished. I was so weak from the lack of food or water that I began to fear I would die before I could see what lie in front of me, just beyond the crumbling wall.

          After I thought I would never complete my task, I was able to push the block from it's place. I quickly slithered through the opening and fell triumphantly to the ground. On my hands and knees, I leaned and kissed the cold, stone floor. My heart jumped into my throat when I came to the realization that I was kissing the same stones I had suffered on for so long. My tears were no consolation for the disappointment I felt in discovering I was in fact back in the same room I had started. I could hear their hateful joy through the door they had deliberately propped open, allowing light to fill the dungeon and give me hope as I slaved through the tunnel. The tunnel was obviously now another part of the torture bestowed upon me.

          That was my one and only attempt at escape. I have since lost all hope in this life. I pray for death to come for me, but no response have I received from my solemn requests. Maybe I am dead, and this is hell. After all, I am very much entombed in this stone box. I cannot say for sure, because I still feel so much pain. Yet I cannot say that I am alive, because this torture is too great to be anything but hell. Either way I am destined to remain, and forced to carry on.
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