MicroHorror

Franz was never told what country the prison was in. He was in a nightclub with a girl in Munich, things were going well, and then she pulled a weapon on him. She called five men in riot gear from another room, who bound and gagged Franz. He was driven in a windowless vehicle for eight hours or so, to some stone structure in the mountains. His cell was small and dank and wet, with no cellmate. There was one small window, which was so inset in the wall that sunlight never entered the cell. There was a small bed, and a bucket, and once a week Franz was bound and gagged while guards emptied the bucket. He could hear echoes of other prisoners, but they all spoke Russian and Franz spoke no Russian. The only person he could communicate with was the guard who fed him. He spoke German, with a Romanian accent. He slid Franz a daily bowl under a slot in the floor, and every once in a while he would tell Franz a joke. The jokes were bad but they became the highlight of Franz’s life. Franz never knew how much he wanted, needed human contact. He craved it almost as much as his daily bowl of blood.