There's nothing I wanted more than to get out. It was cold; Dark; Wet. I hadn't seen daylight in so long, my eyes had simply accepted the blackness and had turned my brain over to my other senses. The sound of dripping and creaking was my whole life. The occasional soft whirring and dull throbbing broke up the time and created some sort of regularity, if they were regular at all. Time, however, was meaningless there in that place, it both vanished and didn't move. The smell of dampness and moldy air was so overwhelming I could taste it. Every once in a while a crisp breeze would float through. It was hardly perceptible, but I could feel it in my nose and on my tongue. It meant there was a world outside this place with fresh air, that I was not completely cut off. Everything around me felt hard, but smooth. No angles, no corners, no sense of left or right, of up or down. Nowhere to crouch and hide in. Nowhere to go. And I stayed waiting for something I wasn't sure even existed.