You’re not crazy, Thom. A statement, stuffed with four words, and five syllables. He picked apart each word, but nothing was convincing him that he wasn’t in a “loony shack.”
He began to scream, hoping the vibration in his vocal cords would make them snap apart. He was convinced the pain would make him break out off his surreal nightmare. Nothing happened, all he did was give himself a raw oropharynx.
He leaned up against the wall, trying to sleep, but adrenaline was still maneuvering through his blood stream.
Then the door opened to his cell. A petit woman appeared, this was his true captor.
“I take it I talked to you earlier?”
“No signs of insanity yet,” she spoke into a silver recorder. “Yes, hello Thom.”
“Hello. Who are you?”
She shook her head, “I don’t deal with introductions. Are you ready?”
“Your training starts now.”
The guards emerged and dragged him from his cell. Outside was a blinding light, and desolate land.
It was him, the woman, a cell, and a courtyard.