A shaft of light from the hallway behind me cast a rectangle of yellow into the room. If not for that, the woman had been lying in complete darkness. I stared, trying to process what I was seeing, until I realized there was no processing any of this. This...this was unimaginable. She was propped against the far wall, arms suspended from chains. No, not any chains. Silver chains. They sparkled and caught the ambient light. Correction...barbed silver chains, digging deeply into her skin. Next to her was an empty plastic cup, with a little blood still in it. Her mask was indeed iron, but had been welded down the middle with molten silver. Jesus. The room was filthy, reminding me of a true medieval dungeon. The stone room was a perfect box. Ten by ten and humid as hell. A torture chamber, if I’d ever seen one. A place to be forgotten, where screams would never, ever be heard.
