Malted Prison

I’m not quite sure how I got here; I think I’ve been asleep for a very long time. Everyone I’ve met feels the same way; it’s like we were put into some sort of suspended animation. How much time had passed? Time – it was always such an alien concept anyway.

At least there was food. As we slowly awoke and explored our surroundings, we were all glad to find plenty of rich sweets. It felt like eons since I had anything to eat so I began gorging myself. I didn’t recognize anyone else, but it seemed that everyone had the same idea – eat first, figure out where we are and how to escape later.

There are a lot of us here. Thankfully there is plenty of food.

But there wasn’t. Before long, many of my fellow prisoners began drifting back to sleep, some never to awaken again. Our shared cell was beginning to fill with waste, and food was getting scarce. The dead and dying bodies began floating slowly to the floor.

If enough die, maybe there will be enough food for me. My last thought, as I drifted to sleep.

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