There are many interpretations of Hell, some of which become incomprehensible to mere mortal minds. Personal Hell. Eternal Hell. Physical Hell. This was Hell. In every sense of the phrase and forevermore.
The room must have been in one of the lower branches of the facility, the lowest in fact. The gathering point where all fresh meat was gathered to display for the veterans of this damned place. Greeneburg. A name only known to those most tortured and depraved souls. Urban legends had spawned over time of a place where insanity is brewed. Where people are taken off the streets and forced to endure the rest of their lives under constant observation and experimentation, never to see the light of the external world again.
But they were just that: stories. Right?
The room had dirt flooring and no windows, the area being enclosed by sandy brown bricks. A single wooden door separated the room’s occupants from the interior hallways, and the beginning of their escape. The ceiling lay low overhead with several carcasses of dead bugs plastered on its surface like old pieces of candy, and a salty dank smell reeked throughout the place.
There were three occupants in total inside: two fresh teenagers and one adult male. A predator and his daily meal. Things were supposed to run smoothly. Get the kids initiated, make a little threat here and there, maybe promise them some false hope and a ransom to their families that would never come.…but no. No, that one brat captured much earlier than all the rest just had to ruin the night’s entertainment. That swine. That lowlife. That bitch….oh well. And now Mister Screw Loose was running around in the facility doing god knew what…well so what?
The others, those who had been kidnapped this very night, were trapped in the room in more ways than one. As each of them would wake up one by one, they would find themselves in low darkness thanks to the power outage. That, and they were all tied up rather nicely. Ropes binded their legs, wrists, and ankles together, while a simple dirty cloth wedged between each of their pretty little lips silenced them.
From the corner, the third prisoner, a veteran just by his smell and appearance alone, began to scratch away at the ground with loosely shattered teeth. His skin was both ashen and blackened at once due to some unknown cause, and his torso found itself locked in a rather torn and aging straitjacket. His hair lay matted and sagging over his shoulder to one side and he gave a soft sighing sound with each creak of his heavy step. Each of his eyes had been gouged out with dried blood crusting down his cheeks, and he crawled around on the floor in vain, gradually getting closer to the bound children.
His voice was one of quiet endurance, the barest of whispers.
“Meat. I smell….food. Yes…fresh flesh with warm blood running in your bodies to sate my thirst and make me full and make me happy again. He comes. He comes for you and me and everyone….heheh, he comes."
The man paused suddenly, as if he saw or heard something the children could not, and then continued with his madness mantra.
"I can smell his handiwork…you all….tied up nice and…tight. Makes the sweat and the blood collect all over your squirming masses. Ahaha, he cares after all!"
The man's voice began to pick up into a keening wail, almost a scream of intense recognition.
"A gift for me! He knows how I like them to struggle! Thank you…oh blessed your black soul Jabberwocky! Ahahahaha!”
The man was foaming slightly at the mouth now, his presence gradually closing the distance between the two children….
Outside, the sound of metal clanging on metal resonated and reached into the ears of the children. The sound of prisoners escaping their Hell, not let loose to wander these halls freely....
Ah, but this tale is not played solely on only one front. Oh no…there are many stories to observe. The mad girl who caused this misguided calamity was currently being pursued by the huntress…a huntress employed by her very own dearly beloved. Yes, yes there they were now! Maybe the mad girl was aware of her stalker, and maybe she wasn't. Regardless, she was close enough to the other children…only a mere turn of the hallway….her steps rang out in the darkness like deep blood ringing in one’s ear.
Loud enough for the huntress to follow in silence and anticipation.
“Well now…this is a very interesting situation here, don’t you think? Hmm, how about you go ahead and greet our little sleepyheads!. Oh, and as for our power culprit…do be sure not to leave so many cuts on the body, ok? Just enough for me to still salvage the leftovers.”
Those had been the Jabberwocky's words to his precious Queen of Hearts…simple orders yes, but that was the simplicity of all things, no?
The slaughter had begun.
And where was the third child then? For indeed, there were three children who each had unique roles in this living nightmare. Not too far away from the others actually. In fact, they were being held in the room right next to the other children, although the location seemed to have drastically changed in appearances. Instead of a closed up dungeon much like the other children, this room looked more like an emergency room.
Cold blue tile lined the floor and walls while medical equipment was evidently scattered about on a small table that rested next to an operating table. Lashed to this table was none other than the missing White Rabbit. Long, black cables held them down over their limbs, eyes, and mouth to cut off all senses to the outside world. Everything but their perception of sound…unbeknownst to them, the room was pitch black with no present power running. Indeed, the only thing this poor child could possibly detect in the slightest was a low hitched breathing that seemed to become more rapid with each passing second.
It came directly above.
