Silas opened his eyes but it made no difference. He lay in stark, unfeeling darkness - a cold, locationless place.
For a moment he believed himself to be blind. There was no way to refute such a thought. He could not even see his hand in front of his face.
He sighed. If he was blind, it mattered not. There was little for him to see anyway.
Whether he was blind or not, where was he?
His body was strewn straight on the cold smoothness of stone. He carefully felt around with his hand - the one remaining - and soon discovered he was simply encased in hard, immovable granite.
He sighed. If it could not get any worse.