I awoke in pitch darkness, a black blanket pressing nonexistently against my eyes. The air in this chamber—for that is all I can call it, even now—was so damp that even my clothes were wet. A hum from a starting light penetrated the silence accompanying the darkness, coming to life in an eerie orange glow. It illuminated an empty room, all but a shadowed corner with a hunched mass in it. At first, it appeared to be no more than a pile of clothes, until I realized it was sobbing. I took a cautious, slow step toward the masculine sobs.

“Are you—“ I started, thinking better of it too late. I froze where I stood when the mass began to speak.

“Alright?” the voice finished, as masculine as the sobs. “No, I’m not alright. I’m not safe. You’re in even worse shape. We’re in hell!” He—I assumed male—shouted his final sentence, making me shrink away. What intensity! How was that all I could think?