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Outside this glass prison, I see another black door, which I assume leads to a room from which my captor can walk in and out of the prison. A sort of in-between room.
A tiny rug on the floor in the middle of the cell provides little softness. Above me is a vent, which blows air into the cell. There’s another one up ahead. In the far-left corner is what looks like a toilet, and in the right corner of my cell, right next to my bed, is a small water tap.
I wonder what else this place is hiding.
However, the moment I think about getting up and exploring my cell, I’m immediately reminded of the dark figure across from me, breathing in and out loudly.
His arms fall off his thighs, and his hands clutch the bed. They’re huge.
Every muscle in his body flexes as he slowly gets up from the bed and saunters my way, his footsteps heavy … like that of a giant.
My heart is beating in my throat as I slowly back into a corner as far away from him as I can. Something inside me tells me I should be more scared of him than my environment.
The closer he gets, the more menacing he appears. The small light hanging from the wall at the far end of the room only barely lights his presence, but it’s enough to see him. His posture is like that of a bear … broad as if he’s about to break through the glass. But he doesn’t. Instead, he approaches me with hawk-like eyes, coming to a stop right in front of the glass. He’s so big; his head almost touches the ceiling while mine doesn’t even come close.
I swallow again at the sight of his size.
And I’m not just talking height.
Muscles everywhere, nothing covering him but simple camouflage shorts. I can’t imagine the size of what’s inside although I can make out quite a bulge. I can’t even focus; that’s how flabbergasted I am by the man who looks more like a beast than a human.
He looks unkempt.
Savage.
The scruffy beard and moustache can’t hide the scars underneath. They’re all over his body and face, and there’s one right under his eye and across his thick, bushy brow.
My lips part, but nothing comes out.
As usual.
The moment I need my voice the most, it fails me.
He paces back and forth in front of the glass as if he’s deciding what to do to me. Observing me.
His nostrils flare.
He takes a sniff.
A hint of a smile tips his lips up briefly.
Goose bumps scatter across my skin.
Who is this man? And what does he want with me?
He cocks his head and his eyes narrow … and then he turns around and walks back to his bed again, sits down, and pretends he’s not there.
I wonder why.
I slowly get up from my corner, trying not to aggravate him. It feels like I’m stuck in a cage with a tiger mere feet away from me, ready to pounce. Any movement could kill me, so I go slow.
However, I’m too curious to stay put. Too desperate to get out that I just have to feel my way around every nook and cranny. Every inch of glass, I have to feel it. From bottom to top, my fingers leave nothing unscathed. But there isn’t a single crack to be found.
“There’s no way out.”
The voice is deep … so deep it feels like a growl from an animal even though I know it isn’t.
It’s him.
The man across the room.
I can tell because the sound came from his direction, and I haven’t seen or heard anyone come in.
But that voice … it instantly draws my attention.
I glance over my shoulder at the dangerous figure on the bed, wondering why he’s telling me this. If this is his way of testing me.
But nothing indicates he wants to continue. No other words come from his mouth. There’s only that slight smile on his face.
Suddenly, a loud screeching noise startles me. I turn my back against the wall, searching for the source. A door in a far corner of the room opens right next to the lamp, and a middle-aged man steps inside. When he spots me, he rubs his head, specifically the spot where he’s going partially bald.
He clears his throat and walks up to the glass cage.
Accompanying Song: “Agents” by Kyle Dixon & Michael Stein
I freeze and make myself as small as I can, pushing myself against the glass as far away from him as possible.
With a creepy smile on his face, he stalks around the cage, and I get the feeling he’s trying to gauge my reaction. I guess he must be wondering why I haven’t screamed yet. I’m wondering that myself too.
The man’s eyes betray his fascination with my reaction. Amusing, maybe, judging from his vicious smile. But to me, the strangest thing isn’t him pacing around outside the glass cage. It’s the man in the cage right next to me.
