Well, i’ve got some good news for the fans of this story: i edited and improved this short chapter. its not nearly done and i dont claim it to be. theres still tons of mistakes. no it doesnt end on a cliffhanger, it ends when i got hungry and decided to grab lunch instead of working further. so i just finished it when i did. however, i think you guys will really like this one. i made it a bit longer 
BUT DONT RUIN THE STORY! if u havent read chapters 1 or 2 please read those first! Chapter on is here!
➝FADING IN AND OUT OF FOCUS. Sometimes I’m here, sometimes in my nightmares, always in terrible pain of what happened. I’ve tried forgetting a few times. Scarlet, crimson, putrid smelling blood covers my imagination, sending me back into nightmares. I’m not even sure where I am. Maybe I’m dead, covered in blood, blood, blood. Voices, always talking to me, but they seem blurry, as though passed through a filter of some sort. I’ve tried listening, but my head feels like it’s on fire every time I focus on anything but death. How long has it been? I don’t know. Days, months, years? Or has it all in my head, as am I?
A peculiar sensation spreads through my nose to the back of my head. As if some gas is spreading throughout my head. I cough, and close my eyes to shield them from the light. Light? A reddish gleam passes through my eyelids, hurting my eyes and giving me an instant headache. The first sensation gets stronger and I cough, drawing in cold air, hurting my throat. The pain is magnificent. The ability to feel and breathe again, is practically reincarnation right now. I continue to breathe deeply, swallowing greedily the oxygen I so badly thirst for.
As my eyes grow slightly accustomed to the appearance of light I notice some details of my surroundings. I am in a white room, made of large painted bricks. I shift uncomfortably in the hard chair in sitting in, seated at a wide table made of a dark wood. Some other senses also return with my eye sight: the first sense being that of smell, and I realize what was the first sensation I felt: smell. I notice how hungry I am at the smell of food, but unable to discern what food it is at the moment. I breathe in sharply and a gasp echoes around the room at the pain that returned to my left arm, dulling the rest of my senses, and rendering my vision a hazy red. I almost fade back into the madness, but fight to regain control. With great difficulty the bloody fog passes and I again stare at the white wall ahead of me, waiting, fighting, for the throbbing to stop.
My heart races as I look around, I cant think straight through all the pain in my arm. I examine my cell more closely, although not taking in much. The walls are all the same color, however the number of coats of pain is random, as is the direction of the strokes taken. The table is made of dark oak, and bears many markings and scratches. “Some look as if they’re made by human nails” I think to myself. This place starts to worry me. I know I’m not dead now, and the throbbing in my arm has almost passed, now more of a small nuisance then a real problem.
“What the hell am I doing here?” I try to stand up and my worst fears are realized. “Why the hell am I strapped down to this chair!?” My heart beat races again, and the pain shoots up in my arm with it as I try to break free, in vain. I scan the room quickly and my vision hazes around the edge of sight. I’m about to scream when a voice speaks from somewhere in the room,
“Don’t scream, you’ll tip them off to the fact that your awake.” I shudder from fear, and quickly search the room for the source of the gruff, male voice.
“Who the hell are you? Where are you?!”
“Do not test me boy. Simply listen and follow my commands. Or I will leave you to be tested on as a lab rat”
Should I trust this voice? He doesn’t seem to mean me harm. Nor does he seem to be an ally. He would probably leave me instead of risking anything of his. Taking the risk, I agree to listen.
“Good, now close your eyes and think…think of those leather straps coming undone, see it, feel it, do it,” the voice says again. This time I realize where its coming from, and my heart skips a beat.
“What are you… d, d doing in… my head?!”, I think to myself, and surely enough, my worst fears are realized: the answer comes from inside myself!
Do as you’re told, or you will be turned into a guinea pig for their own sick needs. With no idea what the hell that means I begin to panic again: I’m locked up in a white cell, no one in here but myself and my mind, and my mind is giving me warnings of my impending torture.
Just shut up and start imagining, the voice says gruffly to me.
“You shut up” I think to myself angrily,
“What do I have to do anyway?”
Good, you’re cooperating, I need you to close your eyes, I do, now imagine that you are free. You have to see it. I keep my eyes closed and picture the room around me in my mind, I see myself, cold and scared, sitting with my eyes screwed shut with a concentrated look across my face. I then watch as the leather straps surrounding my body loosen, and fall to the ground. I open my eyes and take a deep breathe.
“So? Nothing happened. What was the hell point of that?” I feel like a fool, sitting here, and believing every word I say to myself. I was talking to myself, and I thought I knew something I didn’t before! Ha, you, I’m, a fool! I frown, hoping my mind can feel my disgust for myself.
You took a deep breath did you not? How do you suppose you did that if you are strapped tightly to this chair? I think for a moment, on the verge of realizing what happened. However, its to astounding to even consider
“Where, in what darkest corner of hell, are the straps?” I stand up slowly, ignoring the impossibility of what just happened, using my right arm to support myself, as my left is completely useless.
Now find the door, its probably behind you. I turn slowly, testing my legs, checking that I can stand without support. Sure enough, ahead of me is a small grey door, with a clear window set at the top. So they can watch me.
Or so you can look out of the room in this case. I slowly walk over to the door, and wince with every step as my left arm swings by my side. Fix that arm already! snaps the voice at me. “And how the hell am I supposed to do that?” I whisper forcibly.
You still don’t get it, I guess we’ll have to do that later then. Confused over what that means, I walk forward, hobbling slightly, making my way to the door. Upon reaching it I look out the little window, to see if there are any guards, seeing that there are none, I slowly turn the door knob and find that the door is unlocked.
Since you were knocked out cold and tied up they probably discarded you as a threat. Now almost completely trusting what The Voice says I reach for the door and grab the knob. Twist. Nothing. Repeat. I’m breathing heavily and raggedly again.
Hmm, the door is locked. What ever shall we do?
“I don’t know, you tell me!”, I snap, panic setting into my mind, acting like a poison, narrowing my thinking, restraining reasoning.
Perhaps you could open it? Stupid. The Voice is stupid, and I’m no better for listening to it. But what if? How am I supposed to open the door?
You do not learn, stupid boy, use the force flowing through you, concentrate and let loose the lock!
I take a deep breath, close my eyes and wish the door open. This is pathetic. I’m basically imagining the door to open!
“This is so…”, A soft click resonates through the room like a gunshot. I stand, eyes closed not willing to open them, not willing to even take a breath in case I somehow jinx what just happened. did it just happen?
Pathetic boy, first you must breathe, your survival is crucial in my plans, secondly, open the door and see for yourself that I am not the stupid imagination of teenager! I draw in a breath slowly, carefully.
I turn the polished steel handle clockwise and push softly on the door, willing it open. It opens effortlessly under my touch.
A White hall, quiet and clean. Looks like I’m in some sort of security building, meant to keep people in. For their own good? Is this a clinic for the mentally insane?
Now your nearing the critical question
The voice had startled me, I’d forgotten about it after my stunt with the door.
“Well are you gonna answer it for me?” I ask the voice. My voice. It. Anyway it didn’t answer me. I step out into the hallway, its cold. I’m not wearing any socks or shoes. I shiver. I make to zip up my hoodie but gasp half way through. A terrible pain shoots up my arm and I drop to my knees. Broken, forget it was so destroyed. How’d I do that? I wait for the pain to numb before I carry on. There’s no security here. I’m trusting a hunch, its saved me once today. As I stand back up I wobble and have to grip the wall for support. Bloody haze, all red. I try focusing on something else so I look around. Pale hall. Turn at the end. Lights on the ceiling. The type that are a foot long and apparently energy efficient. They blink often irritating my already throbbing head. The haze passes and I continue through the hall, away from my cell, leaving tell-tale signs that I have left, not bothering to close the door or even walking quietly. I stumble through the corridor, supporting myself using the wall. Reached the end. Growing weary and, feeling hungry as hell. Feeling hunger at a time like this seems strange, but it its almost as overpowering as the throbbing pain in my arm.
