The first thing he felt when he opened his eyes, was a splitting headache.
Haze groaned and put his hand on his temple.
The first thing he saw in the room was the wine coloured floor with its grey veins that spread across the room.
The floor and it's veins were illuminated by the dim light in the room.
He didn't have to look up to know the room was crowded.
He felt them, felt their stares like a million needles stabbing at his back.
To them he was an oddity, a freak, an object of both fascination and fear.
He looked from one side of the crowded room to another.
The walls stretched for an eternity till they converged on a small hole in the ceiling.
There were no windows, just that hole that let in the only little source of light in the room.
Haze looked back at the shut door behind him. It was guarded by two fiercely looking guards.
There was no hope in the room, no escape at all.
