No longer was he sitting in an elevator. It was now a dark pit, an abyss. It was hell. An ethereal shadow was cast before him, ghastly. But not as unusual as the creature that cast it. Its hideous head was hidden by a loose cover to hide the monstrosity. Its emaciated fingers, clenched tightly on what seemed to be a scythe. A scythe covered with blood stains, each one telling a different story. As the beast drew closer, the muffled voices became clearer...
Sixty eight years on the earth and this is what his life amounted to; a crudely built six by two and half feet rough wooden box. No lining, no cushioning, no pretense that this was a place to put anything other than a dead and decaying piece of meat and bone. The lid was propped against the painted concrete wall that peeled in the blist
