Prologue
A small glimmer of light shone through the crack in the ceiling above him.
It had opened up one day when that same rumbling noise came rumbling from above him. What it was, he still had no clue.
Either way, the light gave him enough room to see the room around him.
It was a small box shaped room. There was a large metal door in front of him.
Of course he had tried the lock.
And of course the door was locked.
There was a small workbench beside the door. Similar to the one that has been in the burning house. He had also tried all of the drawers to it. They were all locked as well.
Besides that, the only thing that was left in the room was his bucket, which sat to the right of the door. Thankfully by now, his nose had already become accustomed to smelling his own shit everyday.
He hugged himself tighter and scrunched up closer to the wall behind him. He could tell it would be nighttime soon. The rays of sunlight casting through the small hole were starting to turn into a bright orange color.
He leaned over to his right and picked up a small rock. Turning completely around now to face the wall behind him, he started to carve into the wall.
After a few moments of carving into the wall, he leaned back to look at his creation. It was a small straight line. Almost looking like the number one.
To the left of it, were several columns of five marks on the wall.
"Day forty five." He muttered to himself in a whisper.
Whispering. That's all he had been able to do the past few weeks. He couldn't remember the last time he raised his voice.
Suddenly, he heard the door start to creak open behind him.
He turned around to be met with a pistol, a small plate of food, and a wide sister smile.
"It's dinner time!"