Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Red eyes opened up to the sunlight seeping through the cracks in the rocks, casting a gentle orange glow that warmed up the cold stones. His arms are heavy from the chains holding them down.
Drip.
Drip.
He was free yesterday and has been free for a year, and he was free when he died. So why is he chained up again?
Drip.
A groan left his lips as he moved up from the floor. Shit, why did he think sleeping on the floor is a good idea? At least use the pillow for fuck's sake.
Pillow? His red eyes moved around the room he's in, and there's not a single pillow around. Shit, he remembered having at least three pillow stocked in the Hole, and at least two more blankets thrown in a chest somewhere. His eyes adjusted to his surroundings. There's nothing in the Hole.
Drip.
Drip.
His red eyes then moved to the corner of the room where there's a leak from the rain two nights ago. He knew he fixed it years ago, then...
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
