I looked out at the rusty room I was being held in. I had to get out. I was looking around the room for anything that could help me escape when the door opened. I held my breath. A different person stepped in this time. Tall and lean, he wore a gray grungy sweatshirt with the hood pulled over and the drawstrings pulled. He said nothing; he walked over to me, looming over my body. (Which was feeling smaller and smaller, me being intimidated by this giant.) I stared up at him, daring him to hurt me in spite of myself. He leaned very close, and instead of a steely pipe over the head or brass knuckles against my face, I instead felt his hot breath and three words that I will never forget. "Just keep running." He rasped the three words into my ear as if they were poison. He untied me from the slick metal chair and made no move as I got up and walked towards the door. I opened the iron door, hearing the squeak of decades of rust on its hinges. Still he made no move. I quietly stepped outside.... Into one of the most horrific things I've ever seen in my life. I saw dozens of rooms in front of me, all holding a different mutation. Looking into one, a man scuttled like a crab from one shadow to another. In another, a woman sat in the middle of the room with yellow eyes and tattered clothes. I looked away. I had seen enough. I continued down the hall where the flourescent lights lit the dingy walls. I came to the end; a single door. I kicked it open, and stepped outside to the horrible truth. As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but road. Sunbaked, cracked road. The sun beat down overhead, a little distraction from the truth. I was completely alone. Again.
I walked back into the building. I had no choice. It seemed that the personnel who had tormented me only a short day before had all gone. I walked down the hall, passed the quietly weeping women, past the freaks of nature these people had created. I opened the door to the room that I had been in before. The man with the gray sweatshirt still sat there, head bowed. "Where am I?" This was a common question for me now. He looked up. "Nowhere." I stared at him. "Nowhere? We are in nowhere?" He looked down again "We are nowhere. We have always been here, and always will." He tapped the ground with his foot. "No escape." This guy was obviously harmed. His brain cracked and twisted beyond reality by cruel treatment. I sighed and walked towards him. I would have put my arm around him, but he kind of freaked me out. "Do you have a name?" "Don't have one, don't need one." He whispered the words slowly, as if they might harm me if he said them too fast. "I had one once, long long time ago. So long ago." He looked at me with yellow eyes. "So long ago." I didn't tell him this, but I was going to think of his name as Grey, because of his sweatshirt. "Come on." I grabbed the arm of his sweatshirt. He got up slowly, and started to follow me. After walking down the Hall of Freaks, Grey and I reached the door. He stared at it in disbelief, as if he didn't know there had been a door there ever. I opened it with a creak. He cautiously stepped outside, looking around. While he looked around, I surveyed the building. About 100 feet away from us, I saw an old dirtbike. I walked towards it, and saw it was well stocked with gas and water. "Grey!" I shouted his nickname without meaning too. But before I could react, he looked up. Oh well. "Come over here!" He shuffled towards me across the dry desert. I got on the bike and motioned for him to get on the back. He obeyed like a little puppy. This guy needed help. Fortuneately, I knew who to go to to get it. I revved the bike, and set out down the freeway.