At first, Jesse tried to keep track of how much time passed. The early hours were easiest to track, before hunger, and then exhaustion, began to wear on him. Then the pain, that wasn’t really pain at all. It was a discomfort. Numbness. Blood drying on his neck, back, chest, and thighs. Not a lot of blood, by any means. Whatever Marcus intended to do to him, it wasn’t bleed him out. Just small cuts and tiny streams of blood that eventually flaked and made his skin tight.
The early hours were easiest. But there were no windows in this room, and only a single door that didn’t allow any light or sound to pass through. Not even a single bar on the floor. When Marcus left him—though he never left for long—he turned off the lights, and then Jesse was caught in a horrible limbo, his arms extended
