It's been months since Alice was kidnapped. No one had come for her in the hellhole she was usually tortured in. She had become lifeless and unfeeling to the things outside. Her beautiful orbs which usually had light in them were no longer bright as they once were.

As she leaned on the mold wall,clothed in rags, she appeared to be dead.

The rhythmic knocks on the wall had never stopped. For the first few months, Alice was enthusiastic about finding out what they meant but as time went on, she began losing hope. The rhythmic knocks no longer meant a thing to her. Judging by the look on her...