CelticHero37
The Druid
Mac sat in the dark room. residing in the loneliness of his own thoughts. There was some sort of droning hum that had been going on for hours. He really wished to eat, but as the day dragged on in the darkness, no food was offered. Maybe they were just afraid of giving him an arm to move. They had taken away all of his physical freedom and put him in such an environment as to make him hate his mental freedom. Every time he would start thinking, he would just get depressed. His friends couldn't have known that this would happen. The most logical plan of action would be to break him out after he had healed up a little. Every time he thought, he tore down another wall of hope he had built. Tears freely rolled down his cheeks. That was his freedom. That was his only way off the table, tears.