There has to be a way out of this.
He pressed against the door, heedless of the inert heap at his feet. Panic built in his chest—it was worse than just being trapped in his room. The torture instruments loomed; he could almost feel their touch, scraping mockingly against his back.
Perhaps I should go back and see if one of those other tunnels reach the surface. Claustrophobia is a small price to pay.
He checked his phone.
5:34 a.m.
They'll be waking everyone up soon. If I go out, it's more likely I'll meet guards.
Maybe this is my best bet…
He stepped to the back of the wall and pressed the lever on the cabinet. He stepped through, turned his flashlight on, then closed it again.
Such relief to be free—no abusers to weigh him down. The promise of freedom—the smell of clean outdoor air.
He treaded down the path to the first tunnel. It was a small one; he didn't think he could fit inside it.
The next one was larger. He stepped inside and ducked so he wouldn't hit his head. His heart fluttered with nascent panic, but he ignored it; freedom was ahead.
Except—eventually it narrowed to nothing.
Blocking his disappointment, he tried the next one. It narrowed on each side, but stayed high enough so he could walk without bending over. Thrills chased over his skin.
This is it.
His heart swelled with joy, so brilliant it ached.
The floor slanted slightly downward; that alarmed him, but he kept going—it might lead upward eventually. Perhaps a vertical shaft he could climb out of. Perhaps it led to a lower locale; from what he'd seen, they were high up, probably in the mountains.
A faint light glowed at the edges of the tunnel. He dimmed his flashlight and followed the glorious light. It had a blueish hue like the first hints of dawn.
He reached out for it—it was almost tangible. It played over his skin, dancing over his hand, gleaming onto his fingers and illuminating the scars in his palm.
The tunnel curved ahead; beyond it the light grew brighter.
A thin shaft of light appeared and he raced for it, his mouth open to taste the first rays of sunlight.
Light blazing against the burning darkness
He fell to his knees and embraced the ray, letting it spill over him, press warmth into his soul. It glowed over his skin, dust sparkling in it.
He raised his hands to it; they were silhouettes above him.
And the sky—soft bluish gray. Still barely dawn and yet—wonder unending.
He pressed his forehead to the ground and kissed the stone.
Dear God, thank you for the light. For bringing me out of the darkness.
Please help me find a way up to the sun….
A shuffling sound.
Shadows creeping out of the corners of his eyes. They peeled away from the darkness, their eyes malevolent.
He ran from them, seeking the way upwards
But more surged toward him and they grabbed him, their shadows burning into his skin
Pressing him to the floor.
Strength burned through him and he thrust his arms against them and kicked at their limbs and vicious faces and they fell back and he ran for the light
They rushed at him again but he slashed out his knife and blood soared, red splashes plastering the air
They screeched like demons
Something hit the back of his thigh
Something hard hit his ankles and wrapped around them and he slammed into the ground
His heart rebelled against this—Connie was so close—and he struggled to his knees, brandishing the knife, then brought it to the bindings on his ankles, cutting them away
"Alright, that's enough," said a soft but commanding voice, dreadfully familiar.
His head exploded with blazing agony
Then, blessed nothingness.