So, I haven't written much lately. Every time I try something, it kind of drifts off & I lose the plot. This is a rough thing, likely to be a few spelling mistakes, as I've worked on it mainly late at night.
Just wanted to know what you all think of it so far. I'm pretty into this one, so I'm working a lot on it & have a few ideas for it & the characters.

Deception & Truth isn't the official name for it, it's just something for me to call the story for a while & came up with it tempory title after thinking about two of the characters a while.
Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I'm enjoying writing it

~~~~~

Darkness. That’s all he saw. Just that insidious void of black eternity that had become his prison for a time he had no measurement of.
He squeezed his eyes closed, praying to the heavens, to Jesus himself, to free him of this seemingly endless dark & allow him to walk free of this never ending turmoil that was his guilt.
He knew why he was here. For the crimes of another he’d allowed to be committed, of his sheer apathy towards what had been reaped by those who had not sown, of his denial of his heritage & his blood fueled rage that was the root cause his poor choices in social company & business dealings.
He sighed as he opened his eyes to the black. He knew not where he was, nor was he able to move far from his curled up position on what felt like a plump cushion, roughly the size of an single matress, for the collar & chain around his neck proved to be unyielding, welded to the wall at his back & close to a protrusion from the same wall that proved to be a tap.

He curled himself tighter at the sound of someone walking past his general area, filtered as if coming from the other side of a door. Footsteps meant there would be screaming from some one, some where, but only fifty percent of the time. The rest of the time they just went past him & faded away.
A clink, then the grating of metal against metal & a final thunk made him sit up & look in the direction of the noise, sounding to be very close to his place.
He listened intently, head cocked to one side. He thought he could hear the noice of someone shifting their feet, but before he could make much sense of it, a blinding light peirced his gaze & cause him to look away, squeezing his watering eyes tightly closed.

Their prisoner incapacitated momentarily, two tall figures marched into the room to roughly pull him to his feet, though not before putting a bag over his head & cuffing his hands, only to lead him stumbling out of the cell & down the hall, past a dozen cells to a steep stair case of a few dozen stairs. They gave consideration to simply pushing him down the stairs, seen as his feet dragged across the ground for the most part & made him slow, but decided the punishment for such a deed was too much bother.

They lifted him clear off the ground & descended the stairs, opening the heavy metal door at the bottom, which swung as quietly open as moth wings, & letting the light that is so tightly sealed within to spill out onto the bottom stairs. They walked over a metal gurney, rigged with metal cuffs, a collar & heavy chains for restrain.
They lifted him further, giving his arms a rough twist when ever he struggled, & forced him to lay out along the gurney, systematically un-cuffing & re-cuffing his wrists & ankles to the gurney as they did so.
He could vaguely see the light filtering through the material of the bag on his head, keeping himself still so as not to ellude his captors to his intentions. He took careful note of the quick, rough manner in which they positioned his body when they had to touch him, as if touching him was repulsive, & their complete silence, the only noise from them being the clink-clink of the chains, but even that was minimal. He also smelt a faint tell tale scent of maleness. When one of them began to put the collar around his neck whilst the other started to tie his last free hand, he made a quick jerk upwards & head butted one of his captors in the face, breaking what he thought was the nose.
The other captor quickly left his hand & he made the assumption of both captors on the ground together, one holding a broken nose, the other trying to assist his comrade.
He made a lunge upwards, hoping to undo his restraints before they realised, but a cold, metal object pressed to the artery on the right side of his neck before he was even sitting upright, instinctively he knew it to be a blade.

“I wouldn’t if I were you� the voice was cold, controlled, but had what he hoped was an imagined underline of menace.
He swallowed, & as the blade was lifted, a hand gentlely pressed down on his chest & he laid down without further fight, his last free hand being tied down & the collar fitted to his neck.

A deeper voice, laid heavily with annoyance & deeply male, carried over the groan from the injured party he’d head butted “This ones still got enough spunk in him to hand it out, think you be able to handle him?�
The cold menace of the response put a deep unsettling in the prisoners stomach “My methods are effective & if he should so wish to live another day, he will give me what I do seek. Now leave, I have work to do. Ensure you let the cleaners know to be available for when I’m finished�.