284: Stretching Endlessly

Camilla The darkness in the room wasn’t just a physical presence; it felt like it was wrapping around my mind, suffocating any flicker of hope I might have had. My thoughts were a jumble of fear and uncertainty, each one feeding off the other, creating a storm of hopelessness that I couldn’t escape. I tried to focus on practical things—ways to escape, ways to signal for help—but the more I thought about it, the more I realized how utterly powerless I was. There were no tools, no means of breaking out. My attempts to think clearly were clouded by fatigue and the overwhelming sense of despair that seemed to seep into my very bones. The room was so stark, so barren. It felt like a prison designed to break not just the body but the spirit. The walls were unyielding, the floor cold and hard. The dim, flickering light above did little to dispel the shadows, casting strange, sinister shapes that seemed to move with a life of their own. It was a constant reminder that I was trapped in a nig