Irene was sure that she would get some prizes if she passed out again within the next hour. Three times in a day, really? And not to mention one of them being in someone’s memory.
She grasped the ground around her and pushed herself to sit up. She no longer felt the hellish headache, which was good. Her eyes fluttered open. They turned into small lines as it adjusted to the dimmed light. Her eyes scanned the room she was in. Four cemented walls, cemented, cold, and dusty floor, low ceilings with barely working lamps, and tight iron bars to perfect the cell room.
She was in a dungeon. One that smelled like a combination of rusting iron and cat’s piss.
She got up to look out of the bars. There were at least ten more cells along the dark hall. “Hello?” she called out. “Anybody?” she yelled
