Our time in hell

Prison

I slowly open my eyes and then instantly close them, trying to shut out the harsh light. I bring my hand up to my face and peek out of one eye. All I can see is white and I start to panic. An intense pounding starts in my head and I roll over. A groan sounds to my right and I hear a faint shuffling sound. I open my eyes all the way and see a blurry image of Alex lying on his back, his eyes shut. He sits up and looks around, his hair sticking up in cute bed head tufts.

 I try to remember what happened but only come up with a faint image of a really tall guy with a beard and some kind of weird red and black swirl. I shake my head but quickly regret it when a sharp pain shoots through my skull. Sitting up slowly, I look around and also see Leya, Sally, and Matt. I wait a few seconds to make my vision clearer. I notice the harsh light I was talking about was just a light bulb. I chuckle.

 Sally doesn’t look as perfect as she usually is. There are small scratches all over he face and dirt covers her tattered clothing.

 “Are you alright, Sal?” I ask with an affectionate pat on the back.

 I realize I made a mistake because she groans in pain.

 “Sorry!” But at least she’s alive.

 I then look at Leya and stare at her in pity. Her hair is dirty and looking nothing like its normal pristine blonde. Her shirt is ripped to shreds, exposing her smooth belly and her black lace bra. Her skin is pale and covered in dirt. Her mascara is running and her lip gloss is smeared. The only thing that seems to have gone untouched is her shoes. The five inch sparkly black pumps are spotless and the heels are intact. She's running a shaky hand through her hair, trying to hand comb the tangles and tame the wild curls that the heat had caused. She sees me watching and glares at me.

I quickly look away and try to stand. My legs go out from under me and I crumple to the ground, my legs like spaghetti. I try again and again, but my legs won’t listen.

  I give up on standing and look at my surroundings. This room is the most gruesome thing I have ever seen. Blood is stained all over the metal walls and shackles hang from the ceiling. In the far corner, is a dead body whose head is completely off. I puke my guts out. The stench is too overwhelming. Where are we?! But what really caught my attention, is my friend Matt, lying still on the filthy floor.

 "Matt?" I ask, worry laced into my tone. I shake his limp arm and watch his face. He doesn't move.  I put my finger to his cold neck and check for pulse. Nothing. I start to hyperventilate.  I dig my two fingers into his neck and concentrate with all my might. I sigh in relief. His heartbeat is there, but it’s very faint. I smile and shake him.

 “You in there?” I say in his ear.

 Eventually, Matt stirs. He slowly sits up and opens his eyes. I see horror and confusion start to appear on his face.

 "Christina?" He questions, puzzlement in his voice. "Where are we?" He asks.

"I don't know." I reply, wishing I had the answer.

 We help each other to our feet and get more of a look at where we are.  I realize there's a door on the front wall with a small window on it. I didn’t see it because it was hidden. Without waiting for Matt, I rush to the door and grip the bars blocking the window.

"Hello!" I shout.

 Outside is a black stone hallway. I notice the stench is even worse outside and cover my nose. The hallway is lined with torches, the flames licking at the wall. Something’s wrong with the fire though. I suddenly realize with a start that the fire has streaks of purple running through it. Also there are shadows weaving in and out of the flames. All of the sudden, a burly man walks up to the door and slams his fist against the door.

"Move back!" He grunts, his breathe smelling like rotten flesh. I flinch and stumble backwards into a hard chest. Strong arms wrap around my waist and lift me up right. I turn and look into Matt's worried face.

"Thank you" I mutter, a little embarrassed. He nods and let's me go, stepping away from me. I go back to the window and look through it. The guard has moved back and I can see his features clearly. His eyes take up half his face, the pupils red and glowing. His teeth are yellow and jagged, reminding me of rotten bananas. His skin is coal black, cracked in some places. What is this…thing?

"What's going on?" I whimper, not looking at his face. The guard turns to me and smiles a sick smile.

"The prisoners are not allowed to speak to us." He says and turns his attention back to the wall. I puzzle over his words and then the truth finally hits me and I gasp. We’re in prison.