[This chapter is dedicated to DirtybookQueen90. Seeing your continued support gives me the motivation to continue writing. I can't thank you enough. .]
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He kicked the door and or what he thought was the door for the room that he was in was nothing but gray walls. He had been trying to find the damn door but had been failing. His food was being lowered from the ceiling once a day and he was refusing to believe the indication of that. He doesn't want to entertain the idea that the damn Noah imprison him underground.
The three-by-two meter box—for it was preposterous to call it a room, has a narrow metal bed frame that was mounted to the wall. Someone throws a two inches thick mattress and calls it a bed by adding a pillow and a gray fleece blanket.
