Is anyone there? __ The room was cold. So cold. He didn’t know why it was, nor was he aware of how he knew it. But it was cold. It was unfriendly. The surgery tools that encircled the bed - the drills, the saws, the blades - were testament to that. They were an unfriendly greeting party for when he awoke.
Hello? Can anyone hear me? __ Suspended above in the concrete ceiling was a large fan that spun lazily. Each rotation created a dull echo in the basin that the fan was installed in. Behind it was a large spotlight, which flickered shadows across his face periodically.
What is this place? __ There was a crackle and a booming voice echoed through an intercom mounted somewhere near the ceiling of the room.
Excellent. You’re awake.
There was some rustling heard on the other end of the intercom, and some muffled speech, before the deep voice returned.
#0116, respond.
His body seized and a gentle paralysis coursed through him. In the cold of the room, amongst the torture toys, his body remained inert.
That’s just a little short story I’m toying with. May span into a series of short stories…I honestly don’t know.