The silence was worse than the screams.
It had been hours since the last agonized cry echoed down from the upper levels. Now, the dungeon was quiet.
It was a heavy, suffocating silence. It pressed against Marcus's eardrums and made his own heartbeat sound like a drum.
Marcus sat with his back against the cold stone wall. He pulled his knees to his chest.
His mind was a mess.
He tried to use his coaching techniques. He tried to reframe the situation.
'Visualization,' he thought. 'Visualize a way to escape.'
But all he could visualize was Elowen's smile. He saw her sharp fingernails. He saw the gleam in her eyes when she talked about breaking things.
He was going to be tortured.
Pain was not something Marcus handled well.
He was a modern man. He was used to air conditioning and the smell of air freshner.
He was a life coach. He fixed problems with words and empathy.
But here, words were useless.
