Jayron Drinks

The Nameless

You know not where you are. You feel the cold of the steel bite around your arms and legs; you are bound. You attempt to open your eyes but you cannot; you panic. You try to move but find it impossible. It feels as if someone is pressing upon your limbs with all their weight. In your panic, you strain your senses, trying struggling to make sense of something, anything. You only hear the accelerated pace of your heart. The only thing keeping you from completely losing your faculties is the persistence of the cold around your limbs. You steel yourself knowing the only thing you’ll hear is the thrum of the blood in your ears; you calm your breathing and slow your heart and you feel it, the slow steady rocking; you hear the quiet lapping of the water, the low constant groan of old wood settling. You feel it a singular drip, it falls upon your forehead, this ethereal cold permeating you rejuvenating you, you feel yourself being propelled back into consciousness; it feels as if you are being catapulted back into your mind… you awaken.