It was a dark room. He couldn't really tell much else. He had felt his way around the room but found nothing that could tell him anything about his new mystery surroundings. Other than the fact that the floor was made of wood; he learned that as he tripped over his own feet and crashed into the ground, the smell of lacquered wood wafting into his squished nose and the occasional droplet of blood dropping from his lip from the little hole left from a particularly sharp splinter.
Henry wasn't good with the dark; he had never really been comfortable with it, especially as a kid. He assumed it came from his childhood, spending his evenings plagued with a mixture of bad dreams and the alcoholic breath of his caring father. So finding himself in this domain of pure darkness scared him.
He pressed one hand firmly against one of the walls and reached out for another. He figured that if he could push against two opposite walls at the same time, they could support his weight and he would be able to climb upwards, much like in spy films or video games; he was in his element. He stretched out the fingers on his other hand and they barely reached the other wall. He sighed. No chance.
Another action packed plan formulated in his head. He stood in the centre of the relatively small room and lifted his right foot - his stronger one. In one fluid motion, he kicked outwards. There was a small crash as his limb encountered the wooden panelling. He heard it rattle slightly put nothing much else happened. He swivelled on the spot and tried a second wall.
His theory was that one of them had to be a door. A further thought was that it was probably barricaded since he hadn't felt either a doorframe or a handle earlier. He hoped that the force of his foot making contact with the wood would either smash it to pieces or push it back out of his way. Henry now knew that the wood wasn't going to be broken by a half-hearted kick from a mere mortal such as himself. He really wished that he'd done those karate lessons when his mum had offered.
The second wall was slightly different; it was much more solid and didn't feel like wood at all. His mind filtered through a selection of alternatives and eventually came to metal or concrete - since it didn't feel as cold as metal usually does in the sort of climate he could feel, he assumed concrete. He thought about pressing his ear up against it to see if he could determine how thick it was, but realised it was probably a waste of time. He turned and kicked a third wall.
This one was much like the first - it sounded like there wasn't anything behind it but he couldn't muster up enough force to move it. He had never really been happy with his levels of fitness or even his build; he may have been blessed with the wide shoulders of a strong rugby player but they did no good on him since his muscles had never been worked into any decent form. He had been the average boy in the playground at school - fit enough to avoid the weight-related insults but not quite enough to be popular; he had fallen through the cracks of the system and had been alone.
A small part of him wanted to laugh; for most of his life he had felt alone in a room full of people and yet here he was, trapped in a room barely big enough for him and yet he felt less alone than he ever really had before. He turned and kicked the final wall.
His scientific mind half expected the walls to follow a pattern (wooden, concrete, wooden, concrete) but he was disappointed when the last wall was wooden yet again. However, instead of hearing the wood settle back into place afterwards, he heard a slight clunk of metal moving. It sounded like a little ball rolling down a metal track. Mainly because it was the sound of a little ball rolling down a metal track.
Henry pressed his ear up against the bottom of the last wall and listened. He could hear it getting further and further away from him. Then it stopped. Had the ball fallen off the track? Maybe it had reached the end. Or it had got stuck. Just to be on the safe side, Henry blew through the wood in a hope that the ball would reach its destination. But it already had.
He hoped that that ball was a signal to someone outside the room that he was in there or that he was alive. But it was a trap. That last wall began to move towards him. He panicked and for the first time in his life, he screamed in a fairly high pitched tone.