The drip drop of water from the little faucet in the corner is consistent and beautifully haunting.
The floors are bare; polished with cement and sand. The walls are painted a stark grey color intentionally to keep the room temperature down, almost below freezing level.
In the middle of the room is a single hair and nothing else. At the far corner is a long metal table. On it, a large selection of tools are arranged in proper order from smallest to largest tools.
The last thing is the bucket at the other far end of the room, a makeshift toilet. All these were by my design. My dungeon, my personal holding cell to hold the worst of the worst of my enemies.
I had this room built a few years after I rose to the throne. I hear the whispers about this room, the mystery that shrouds the secr
