In the hush of an eerie, white-lit room, Edmund's consciousness flickered back to life, blinking through the mist of disorientation.
With each tentative flutter of his eyelids, the world around him phased into existence, manifesting into a grotesque scene of grime and shadows.
The room was expansive, its boundaries pushing against the gloom, with walls stained by the ink of many years, whispering tales of neglect. But on second look, it just seemed like a large, dirty bathroom.
Flickering white lights struggled to throw their luminescent tendrils across the space, stuttering like the heartbeat of a dying animal.
His eyes widened upon seeing leather whips, sharp and weird tools of inexplicable function, and implements designed with a menacing purpose in mind hung there, casting elongated, misshapen shadows that danced with every flicker of the lights.
