Peering near the door entry of the prison cell, you see that the heavy, rotted door is off its hinges and lying on the floor, destroyed. Something escaped, but was it recent? Has it left? Is it wandering? Or waiting for you? The bars are bent with blood stains, uncertain if the damp environment is keeping it fresh or it’s recent. To bend bars, smash heavy doors, it’s powerful enough…let’s just hope it’s not still angry enough to attack. You hear a low rumbling, echoing distantly: has it caught wind of your scent, the sound of your footsteps, or the smell of your sweat?
Peering Into the Prison Cell