Bitter. The air was thick like morning fog. The stench was unbearable. There was a hint of mold and cigars in the air. Just like any other room in the building. Except here, the smell was found in every single corner. Running was the only option. My feet carried me straight, but my mind pursued to go the other way.  The hallway was dim, almost pitch black. The stone walls were covered in smears and smudges, randomly spread throughout. I breathed in once more, the damp air making my throat dry. I couldn't cough or they would hear me.

A crunching sound started to form with every step. I realized that shattered glass lay everywhere. I tried avoiding stepping on it, but it carpeted the entire floor. Dread. Now dread started to wrap around me, and coil around my entire soul. The pressure, the stress, and the panic engulfed me.

Mazes. Mazes. Mazes. I hated mazes. I was always bewildered by them. But that was how I felt, the only way I can vividly tell you what was going on. The hallway was straight, not a single bend present. But I felt like I was in a maze. I tried turning when I couldn't. I memorized the way when there was only one path. I clenched my wet hair in my hands. I squeezed it, and felt the cold drop trickle down my arm.

I missed my family. They were always there with me. But now they weren't. I would always hold Alice in my laps. Never letting go of her soft small fingers. Her little rosy cheeks would bring out the joy in me. Her smile was bigger than anything I ever saw. I never let go of her. She did. They took her away. Tears spilling down her pale cheeks. She kicked, and she struggled, and she cried. The sounds she made stabbed my heart. Stabbed my heart with icy daggers. She looked at me from the window of the plane. My wife was holding her in in her laps. She was strong, but her sadness was undeniable. The aircraft was soundproof, but I could hear her sniffling. Her yells were carried by the wind. The wind brought them back to me at night, when I would sit alone in the cell.
My breathing tightened. My ears picked up a sound I prayed that I wouldn't here. But as it grew louder, I was more aware of what was going on. The barks of dogs was echoing down the hall. My stomach grew tighter, but my motivation expanded. My feet raced across the glass. Alice's face burned into my head. Her sad hazle eyes, swollen with tears. Her eyes were bigger than her smile. My eyes teared up.

A light up ahead became brighter. The damp air and the leaking from the pipes running on the ceiling were becoming distant. The crunching sound ceased suddenly, like a wave receding back after it just hit the shore. I strained, trying to remember the ocean. I tried picturing the peaceful blue sea, or a raging ocean, with its monotonous gray color. No. The memory was gone, as though someone stole it. Someone evil went into my head and stole such a prodigious memory.

I was at the end of the hallway. I stopped to listen for any sound of the approaching hounds. Silence. They were dead, as dead as everyone else. I turned my attention back onto the end of the hall way. The light was coming from a room. A familiar room I've been in before.

It brought back revolting memories. A raspy voice coming from the room, and escaped from a crack, made me shiver.
"Mr. Lendon. I see you there. You know perfectly well that you cannot hide from me."
His voice had a heavy British accent. He put a ton of emphasis on all of the words. It was as though he wanted to frighten me. And mock me. All at the same time.

I remained silent, only slowly and steadily breathing. I could feel him growing impatient, irritated.
"Mr. Lendon?"
I still had my mouth shut.
"Mr. Lendon? I would like to talk to you."

I started to shake; not from the cold breeze blowing through my wet hair, but from the fury boiling inside.
  "Shut up! Shut up! Shut the hell up! You sick beast! Because of you, I had to see Alice leave and cry a whole river. Do you even have a heart?" I haven't even realized it, but I started to pant. I was still sitting outside the office. The man inside lit a Cuban, and started to puff a cloud.

"It was for your own good. Mr. Lendon, you already know that." He paused to take another puff of his cigar. My hands trembled, as I stroked my hand against the oak door. I stood up, and jumped onto my sore feet. barging through the door, I saw The Keeper. He was a chubby, round man and was sprawled in the chair. As I flew into the room, his smile broadened. He reached for his glasses, and wiped the fog off it. That was the final pinnacle. I pulled out a revolver and pointed it at his head.

"Give one reason why I shouldn't send a bullet through your head. Right now."

The man started laughing, and laughing, and laughing. His laugh was sharp. Just like a smoker would have. I was done hearing it.

I turned around, getting ready to open the door. A steady dripping was heard, as dark colored puddles started to seep into the floor. I opened the creaking door, and glanced at the enormous grandfather clock standing in the corner. It was 1:13 in the morning.