I feel colder than usual. I had been here for what felt like months, and it had never felt this cold. Great… this room is turning into an ice box literally. It has been several days since I discovered the rubber wall, I still haven’t broken through it yet. If I had something sharp, or didn’t have such blunt nails, I would be able to easily get through it. It’s strange, my nails also seem not to be growing. Maybe I haven’t been in here as long as I thought.

Inspecting my nails also led me to find something else interesting on my finger. A small crack just before the nail, in the, what’s suppose, fleshy part of my finger. As I investigate further, the crack extends across a third of the length of my finger. It doesn’t hurt but the unending itchiness calls to me. Soon enough my entire finger had a crack through the entire length and some. The itchiness continues, so do I. Further and further up my arm until the itchiness ceases.

“What is happening to me?” A sentence slipped from my cold face into an empty room with condensation covering the walls. The condensation gets so cold it freezes. I pull my eyes away from the quickly growing ice stalactites protruding from the walls, back to the crack. The gap is wide enough for me to stick my nail into it. Curiosity takes hold of me as I turn that thought into action. My skin peels away cracking and snapping off in multiple locations along my arm. Underneath is an endoskeleton frame. I can’t truly comprehend what is happening, like seeing your bone stick out of your arm after an accident. You don’t recognize what’s happening fully. This distraction pulled me away from the ice spike sticking through the rubber wall. Soon enough my mind lets go of this truth in favor of the rubber wall snapping into an opening.

Even with my arm in its state, nothing could stop my curiosity from forcing me to sprint toward the hallway. There was a cliché light at the end of this tunnel for some reason. To taunt me once I reach the end? To appear always the same distance away, teasing me with the thought of freedom? Clueless thoughts in my mind being steadily blocked out by the clack of my shoes against the hard metal floor. Each time I heard that sound it got softer until it was a slap like flesh being pounded. I gaze downward toward my feet, still sprinting full force toward the light. My eyes reach a conclusion which I had already knew. My shoes had been torn away, soon the flesh on my feet will follow suit.

I kept gathering speed, the light becoming more distant.

“Don’t leave me in the dark, you bastard!” I screech in agony at nothing as pain shoots up from my feet as I punish the ground. I don’t know how fast I’m running. Far faster than I had ever ran, as well as any human would also be fair to say. I wasn’t tiring either. I had been running for as long as a marathon would last. Despite my feet, I could also say my body felt fine. I stared at my exposed metal hand. Why can’t I remember? Something important happen to me, I know not just from the strange and inhuman events which are occurring. Something felt off from the moment I first woke up in the ice box.

To be continued...