As we backed away from the cell, I stumbled over my own feet. Max caught my arm and pulled me toward the door.
As we approached the cellblock, I noticed that the doors seemed to be slightly ajar. Max frowned and motioned for me to follow him. We stepped inside, our flashlights casting flickering shadows on the walls.
We were trapped.
My partner, a grizzled veteran named Max, nudged me forward. "Time to get moving, rookie," he growled. "We've got a cellblock to inspect."
And then, the screams started.
We approached the cell cautiously, our lights trained on the door. As we peered inside, I saw a figure huddled in the corner, its back to us. The scratching noise grew louder, and I realized that it was coming from the walls, not the door.
At first, I didn't. But then, I picked up on a faint scratching noise, like fingernails on metal. It was coming from the last cell on the left. As we backed away from the cell, I stumbled over my own feet
The cells were empty, but the atmosphere was oppressive. I could feel the weight of countless screams and tears bearing down on me. Suddenly, Max stopped in his tracks and cocked his head to one side.