A man clad in a dark grey trench coat trudged through a barely lit hallway.
'Another day of this…'
Thomas felt exhausted and worn down. Though if he were being honest, not a single day had passed where he didn't feel as though he was living in hell.
He frowned. If this was hell, then he definitely wasn't a sinner being punished, but the executioner.
He reached the end of the hallway and took a deep breath.
'Here goes.'
He stepped forward as the door slid open. The room was vast, filled with dozens of singular beds arranged in rows and columns.
Lying on each bed were men and women of varying races, with a round device strapped to their heads, connected to long tubes stretching outward.
Each of them looked sickly and pale, as though the life had somehow been drained out of them.
There was an ominous atmosphere in the room, one that always seemed to send an uncomfortable chill through Thomas' body.
