COINED: The darkness within...

"All these millions mean nothing, in dreams don't look into mirrors, don't ask for a time and date, in dreams when you see your reflection, run, consciousness is subjective, you will take over him and he will take over you, beware his gaze", those were the old lady psychic's last words as she walked out of his office, and they echoed through his head. Even as he slept, those were the last things he remembered. He woke up in a dark room, dressed in rags, chained to a wall. He didn't remember how he got there, but he knew he was in a place of danger. The heavy bar door opened and two guards entered dragging in a woman who was also dressed in rags and covered in dirt and grime. The guards threw her to the floor, and she looked up at the millionaire, Ben with fear in her eyes. As the guards left, locking the door behind them, the millionaire tried to focus his eyes. The room was dimly lit, and he could barely make out the woman huddled on the floor. He couldn't tell if she had been hurt, but he could hear her breathing heavily. His head was pounding, and he couldn't remember what happened before he woke up in this dark cell. How did he get here? He tried to sit up, but his hands and feet are chained to the wall. In the dark cell, the millionaire's head pounded, and he struggled to remember what had happened. His hands and feet were chained to the wall, and he could barely move. The woman on the floor was breathing heavily, but he couldn't tell if she was injured. He tried to piece together his memories, but everything was a blur. The last thing he remembered was looking into the mirror, but after that, everything was blank.The heavy chains felt cold and unforgiving against his skin. They dug into his wrists and ankles, and he winced in pain. His clothing was ragged and tattered, and it hung loosely from his frame. He was barefoot, and the stone floor was cold and hard beneath his feet. As he shifted, trying to find a comfortable position, the chains rattled, and he felt a wave of panic wash over him. Was he a prisoner? And if so, who had captured him?In the dark cell, the millionaire's mind raced. He couldn't remember how he had ended up in this place, and the lack of answers only served to increase his confusion and fear. His mind was full of questions: Where was he? How did he get here? And why was he chained to the wall? He tried to think back to his last memory, but it was hazy and fragmented. All he could remember was walking down the street in his home city, eating supper, sleeping and then… nothing. It was as if his memory had been wiped clean.The man's voice was weak and hoarse as he spoke to the woman on the floor. "Hello?" he whispered. "Are you okay?" The woman didn't respond, and the man's heart sank. Was she unconscious? Or worse? He tried again. "Hello?" His voice cracked as he spoke, and he felt a knot of fear in his stomach. He had to get out of this place, but how? He tugged at the chains that bound him, but they were too strong. He was trapped.The cell was small and cramped, with stone walls and floors that were damp and covered in grime. The air was stale and musty, and the smell of decay hung in the air. As the man's eyes adjusted to the darkness, he realized that there was a skeleton in the corner of the cell. It was partially covered in rags, and it looked as if it had been there for a long time. The man's heart pounded in his chest, and he felt a surge of panic. Was he going to end up like the skeleton in the corner?As the man's eyes adjusted to the dim light, he could make out the door of the cell. It was made of heavy iron bars, and beyond it was a narrow hallway. The only light came from a single torch on the wall, casting long shadows across the floor. In the hallway, there was a hunk of stale bread and a bucket of water. The man's stomach growled, and he realized that he was hungry and thirsty. But what did it matter, when he was trapped in this place?As the man studied the chains that bound him, he noticed something strange. The links of the chains were carved with intricate designs, and they seemed to be glowing faintly, as if they were imbued with some sort of power. He reached out to touch one of the links, and as he did, a jolt of energy passed through him. It was as if the chains were alive, pulsing with a strange, otherworldly power. He quickly pulled his hand back, a look of fear and wonder on his face. He recognized it as torture by electricity, then he whispered to himself how it is illegal. The man's heart sank as he realized that he was being subjected to electroshock. He remembered reading about it in an old book, a technique used by cruel and sadistic regimes throughout history. His mind raced as he tried to make sense of what was happening. How had he ended up here? And why was he being subjected to such a brutal form of punishment?. He whispered to himself, "This is illegal. This is against the law. They can't do this." But who would hear him? Who would help him?The man's mind raced as he tried to think of who might have taken him, and why. He mused aloud, "Could this be the work of the North Koreans? Or the Chinese? Or perhaps it's some other rogue state, like Iran or Russia. They must be after some kind of ransom. But what could they possibly want?" He thought of his family, his friends, his life back home. He felt a wave of homesickness wash over him, and he wondered if he would ever see his loved ones again. The woman on the floor moved. The movement from the corner of the cell startled the man, and he froze in terror. Had the woman been dead, or merely unconscious? Was she a prisoner like him, or was she one of the people who had brought him here? He watched, transfixed, as she slowly sat up, her movements stiff and awkward. She turned to look at him, and he gasped as he saw her face. Her eyes were empty, her features gaunt and gray, as if she had been dead for days.