Gyles
This place is cold.
I am so cold.
It seems like the only thing that is happening in the place getting colder. My hands are shaking and no matter how hard I try to push the door, it wouldn't budge.
The book is still in my grip. It should be useful to me right now but nothing is happening. I don't even know how I am supposed to use it. I don't even know what to do.
"Help me,'' I call out, I don't even know who I am calling to. The misty fog comes out of my mouth as I try to steady my breathing. It feels like there is no oxygen in this place. The air is eerie and daunting.
If I don't get out of here, I am going to die.
I don't want to die.
"Anyone, someone, help me,'' I try as I clutch unto the door handle. Everywhere is cold and shilling. The room is creepy and carries this disgusting smell. I know what the smell is. I know that so many people have been sacrificed in this room.
I don't want to be next.
