Light flitted through the narrow slits of the windows, inside the dank and musty cell. Providing the little light that ever entered during the day.
Dust particals floated in the beams of light, dancing it's unpredictable dance to the silent music of the light.
The cell was very basic in design, four walls, tall and glistering sickly in the sunlight. With rough rock that tore skin open and infected it with the grim and dirt of thousands before it's occupant. A heavy door barred the only exist, with twisted metal and wooden panels. Slits for the window, which were placed high up of the walls, so that none inside the cell could get a glimps of the outside, of the freedom that was prone never to come, and to stop those on the outside from staring at things 'they' tried to hide within the thick walls of the cell. Bars crossed these narrow slits, as if to stop anyone further. It was a small cell, only allowing five paces of brooding before one would have to turn and start again. Scratch marks dented the walls, dried blood coated the floor and walls. Rotten hay lay scattered across the floor, damp with the empting of others who stayed inside that very cell. Rings hung from the wall with chains leading off to restrain someone like a dog. 'They' liked to keep control, of everything and if they could not they would force you or kill you. The smell of the cell was gashtly, with decades upon decades of not being cleaned of the sick and emptiong of it occupants.
Dust hung in the air slow floating downwards in it's unpredictable dance, dissapearing when they left the beams of light. One light shined on a body sitting with their head down and keens drawn up. Hair hung lank down their face, layered with months of grease. Red welts showed on there wrists where the chains locking them to the wall had cut deep inside. There were also angery welts on their feet, but they did not notice. Their mind had shut down, shut down to block out the terrible paint they endured every day. The pain which fead their anger, their despaire.