And yet he didn't know where he came from, or how he'd got into the dark lift, or who his parents
were. He didn't even know his last name. Images of people flashed replaced across his mind, but
there was no recognition, their faces replaced with haunted smears of colour. He couldn't think of
one person he knew, or recall a single conversation.
The room continued its ascent, swaying; Thomas grew immune to the ceaseless rattling of the chains
that pulled him upwards. A long time passed. Minutes stretched into hours, although it was
impossible to know for sure because every second seemed an eternity. No. He was smarter than that.
Trusting his instincts, he knew he'd been moving for roughly half an hour.
Strangely enough, he felt his fear whisked away like a swarm of gnats caught in the wind, replaced
by an intense curiosity. He wanted to know where he was and what was happening.
With a groan and then a clonk, the rising room halted; the sudden change jolted Thomas from his
huddled position and threw him across the hard floor. As he scrambled to his feet, he felt the room
sway less and less until it finally stilled. Everything fell silent.
A minute passed. Two. He looked in every direction but saw only darkness; he felt along the walls
again, searching for a way out.