• The dripping water was getting to him. It made him irritable. When he was irritable, the Voices came back. The Voices in his head that told him to do things that he knew not to do. He didn't know where the Voices had come from, or why they would not leave, but he knew that they weren't good Voices.

    He shifted slightly, opening his eyes to try and find the source of the irritating noise. But no, as all the times before, the world was blanketed in darkness. How long had it been dark? He had lost count of the minutes, hours, days. Time did not seem to matter in the deep, cold darkness he had found himself in.

    He had discovered, an unmeasurable amount of time ago, that he was beginning to forget what it meant to see. The dripping continued, and he shifted again. The Voices were starting to push now. It always made his head hurt when they pushed. They clamored at him, pressing against the mental barriers he had made to keep him out.

    He hoped that his walls would hold. Every time they broke, it took longer to repair them. The Voices were getting clever, now. Each time, they figured out a way to hold onto his mind for longer amounts of time. He hoped that, someday, they would give up. If they didn't... well, he wouldn't think about that.

    He began to twitch as the water continued to drip steadily, making thick, wet plocking noises. He moved, shifting to get up, his body moving slowly. The Voices rebelled against movement. He shoved at them and continued to move, trying to follow the sound of the water dripping.

    At least, he thought it was water. If he could find water, he could survive. It had been stupid, he realized, coming down into this place with no provisions or light sources. But he had been desperate at the time. The Voices had almost broken his walls then, and he'd needed somewhere without other people to make the walls stronger.

    He stumbled through the darkness, crawling for fear of the ceiling being too short for him to stand, for fear that he might trip and send himself tumbling endlessly to his death. The Voices pressed harder, but he made his walls like steel, and they faded for the time being.

    There. He could hear the water now. Maybe, with the Voices quiet, he could find it. If he could find water, maybe he could find his way out. Maybe, just maybe, he'd been in the darkness long enough that the people had found a way to cure him, to make the Voices go away.

    He paused to listen and catch his breath, his body shaking from effort and fear. The dripping noise was closer now. He smiled to himself, then continued on when his body would allow. Water meant life. If he found the water, maybe someone would come find him, and take him back into the light.

    He moved faster, excitement and hope overtaking the fear. Something was brighter up ahead. Maybe he had found the way out. And it was in the same direction as the dripping noise! What luck!

    He made his way cautiously toward the noise. He had indeed found light. He was beginning to be able to see things, now. His eyes protested, at first, to the light, but he kept them open, slowing down to let them adjust. He had found light, and he could hear water dripping. Maybe he could finally be free of the darkness.

    He looked around carefully when he could see enough to do so safely. He almost laughed aloud at his silly fears. He hadn't needed to worry about the ceiling. It went up until he couldn't see it anymore. He carefully stood, his body wobbling. Yes, light was good.

    He moved faster on two legs, heading for the noise. The Voices pressed at him again, telling him not to go in that direction. He didn't trust the Voices. They'd always lied before. When he gave in, and did what they wanted, he found that he often got in trouble, or got someone badly hurt.

    So he went directly toward the light, his eyes wide open. He sniffed at the air, smelling something wet. His hopes raised, and he sped up slightly. When he reached the light, however, he stopped abruptly. He almost gasped, except that his time spent in silence had robbed him of his voice.

    The sight before him was sickening. And yet he could not tear his gaze away from it. He had found the light, yes, but now he felt that he had been safer in the dark. He backed away slightly before fleeing into the darkness, leaving behind the lighted area and the steady sound of dripping.