Survival and starvation breed insanity in the minds of the weak willed.
The weak don’t last long.
Here’s Alex.

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The voices scramble in my head. Fighting. Striking all the cords. Lighting sparking up my neurons. Causing pain. So on. And so on.

The scent of sulfur squeezes in under the crack of the door. Seductive. Alluring. It could all be over if I give in. A doorknob away.

Pitch black footsteps on the other side. Some drag. Others pace.

A scent which promotes a familiar taste. Iron. Strong. It lingers in this place.

Greed lead the curious cat to Death’s door. Whether or not I want to remain here anymore is no longer a choice I get to make. Best case scenario is to endure.

It’s been days and the daze is setting in. Not many ways this could end. I’ve already debated running outside. And I hate it, knowing I might die. But there’s no other way to…