"You know, you have to eat at some point." The guard snapped at me. I scowled and pushed the tray away. "Fine, starve. I don't care." He grunted. He stormed out of the cell and slammed the door after him. 

I have no idea where I am. After I passed out, I woke up locked in a tiny iron crate. I have to stay curled up, I can't stretch my legs and I can't shift otherwise it would be painful and I'd probably break all my bones. They've thought this through. 

Whatever they shot me with was without a doubt the work of a witch. I bet they perfected their...