17
All I could smell was blood, s**t and piss. I couldn’t see anything. At first, I thought I’d been blindfolded, but as I ran my fingers over my face and felt nothing but my skin, I realised I was either blind or in a pitch-black cell or both. The smell made me think I was in some sort of prison cell. The screams coming from all around me confirmed it. I was once again an active participant in one of Jack’s little games. In some ways, it was a comfort. I was back in familiar territory. I’d realised it was easier for me to deal with the pain and the suffering than having to watch someone else being tortured and being powerless to stop it.
I wasn’t entirely sure how I’d ended up in the cell. The last thing I remembered was Carol being slung onto the back of a Dragon. The rest was a blu
