[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/3e957308-dda5-4357-988e-b5b7c18499fa.png[/img][hr][hr]
[img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/8b229756-c536-42d4-bd0f-334ec96e69c9.jpg[/img][hr][hr][h1]In the Belly of the Beast[/h1][/center][hr]
[i]Darkness.

You are awake.

You are alive.

You must break free.

Open your eyes.[/i]

You force your eyelids open, grunting and groaning with effort as if a great weight has been placed upon them by an unknown hand. Your mind feels unfocused and your flesh trembles with weakness. Why this is, you cannot say. There is no memory of what came before this moment, only the distant recollection of your defeat and the subsequent disorganized days of incarceration. How long have you been in this place, this Maw? There is no answer. There has only been darkness, and silence, and the cold. But now, there is light. You blink your eyes, trying to adjust your blurred vision. You catch a shadow of movement to your side, but is powerless to investigate. Growling, you try to move your limbs, but to no avail.

[color=6ecff6]You have woken.[/color] [i]That voice –[/i]

You shut your eyes once more, not sure you are ready to face her again. Face it again. But there is no escape. No matter how hard you try, you cannot break free. With a final grunt of frustration, you open your eyes to face the terror. This time, your vision is clear.

You're in a large chamber, dimly lit by a ghastly blueish light of unknown origin. The stone walls are damp with moisture, rising upwards into a vault above. There are other entities here, their forms veiled in shadow, but you barely notice any of this. You only have eyes for the entity that stands before you in the center of the room. The moment your gaze falls upon her face, despair takes hold of your heart with merciless talons of ice.

The Warden.

She (It? You're not sure the Warden can be counted as a woman) stands perfectly still, observing you. Your mind screams whenever you lay eyes upon her; something is wrong. It is as if she is not really there, not real at all, but at the same time the only real thing in the room. Even the light and the shadows seem to fall upon her incorrectly, as if they have a conscience of their own and are reluctant to touch the abomination. Time stretches, your heavy breathing the only sound in the room.

The Warden remains motionless, as if you aren't there. You strain again, but cannot move. Inspecting your body, you find no bounds. You're upright, clothed as you had been the day of your capture, still as a statue. You grunt again, your frustration mingled with panic, fruitlessly straining against the invisible force holding you in place.

[color=6ecff6]Patience[/color], the Warden says, her voice like breaking glass. [color=6ecff6]All in due time. They are waking.[/color]

The very next moment, one of the shadowed figures begins to stir.