The guards drag me down the spiral staircase as low as it can go, down, down into the dungeon. They drag me through the narrow hallway between the rod-iron cages. Instead of going to the cell at the end of the hall, where I was once tortured with the truth serum, one of the guards unlocks a cell along the way and throws me inside.
I stumble, toppling down to the dirty floor.
The guard slams the gate closed behind me and locks it.
I want to beg him not to go, to reconsider, to say this is all a mistake.
But my crime was clear. I was trying to escape, and I got caught. Nothing I could say would change that.
So, trapped in these iron bars and my own misery, I watch the guard walk away, abandoning me in this dark, damp place.
Someone is wailing from down the hall, moaning like a ghost. T
