Author's Notes: This is a story focusing around an unnamed man who has been sentenced to imprisonment in a small, dark room. The only thing he has is the moonlight, which he manipulates to reflect upon the walls. Upon the walls, he sees lines of those who were previously were placed inside the room. From a princess to a criminal, he investigates the history of the room. This is a frame story; different stories will be in different chapters, all placed inside the frame of the prisoner's tale. So, enough author's notes: this is Asylum Walls.


The guards gruffly subdued him. He struggled and squirmed, but he instantly found himself unable to move. His arms were tied across his body in a thick jacket. With his arms bound, he found himself recklessly shoving the guards aside, but with each failed attempt to free himself, the guards found another opportunity to grab him. Eventually he lacked the energy to escape and the guards carefully led him down a pathway lined with a chillingly-plain wall. The wall was decorated with silver doors that made his heart beat faster, for he had no idea what was behind those doors. He felt thick tears escaping his eyes, running across his face. As they fell, he wished that he had the strength to follow them. But the guards solemnly stopped in front of one of the doors and opened it. Inside was a room covered with a thick padding; there was a small window, but no other source of illumination. A small stream of moonlight pierced through the window; he was hypnotized by the light, even as the guards tossed him inside the room. With one breath, he ran towards the door, but the guards' quickness defeated him, and he left himself confined with the room. His arms were bound, the darkness flooded the room; there was nothing left. All he had was the thin stream of moonlight which entered the room. All the rest was darkness. A shaking breath ran from his mouth as his bound body relaxed upon the padded room. The tears once again ran, this time reaching the floor. He mindlessly stared at the moonlight, the only thing that even signified the outside world's existence. Tears pooled, until a small puddle appeared. The calming moonlight danced upon the tears. Thin streams of light began to disperse the moonlight across the dark room until faint, extremely faint light became to bounce towards the walls. The prisoner became fascinated by the light; it was a brilliant aurora that nearly made him forget his situation. Alas, he could not. As his tear-filled eyes scanned the room, he noticed something upon the walls. Shades, hues, not a pure color, something was upon the wall. Not even his extra-sensitive eyes could see what the darkness hid. The isolation was too haunting to keep living in; there had to be a way to see what the wall possessed. But with arms bound, was there any way to find out? Indeed there was. With his tongue, the prisoner reached to the back of his mouth and began poking at a filling he had gotten years before. After his tongue began the bleed, he was able to get the filling out clenched between his teeth. Carefully he moved the metal to the moonlight, and sure enough, the light revealed the writing. Not bright, not much, but enough was shown. What was revealed began with three haunting words, and ran in sentences on the room wall.

Stay alive, man.