The room is illuminated in dim, warm light. The electric, wall mounted sconce attached next to the door hums with an unavoidably loud buzz. A few feet past the doorway sits a candle, on a rectangular wooden table off to the side. Made out of slats of wood and weathered, this table has been around for years.
And looking closer, the candle is odd. Four distinct flames arise from it. The candle sits directly on the table surface, directly against the wood. It isn’t in the candle holder, which sits empty. Upon closer inspection, what was once a single candle, is now two candles, the wick lit at both sides.
The ceiling is painted with blacks and dark browns, and looks as if it is a cavernous hole. The air has an eeire weight to it, warning me of the sights and dangers that are yet to unfold. And that’s when I see it.
There, in the center of this dark, cave-like room, sits a rusty, metallic, cage. A horned beast, covered in black matted fur, is caught angrily growling at the cage’s door. The lock on the front is rusted shut, showing the lack of intent to ever open this cage.
Time passes, and as one of the candles is creeping ever so closer to burning out, the beast becomes more and more agitated. As the wax continues to drip on the floor, the beast begins to scream and growl, louder with every passing minute.
When it just about looks like the wax is nearly gone, the beast lets out an ear piercing scream, shredding the cage.
The walls shatter, exposing the veneer and revealing the facade of this room. No more would this beast allow itself to be chained up. No more would it hold itself close. No more, it thought, would it allow itself to be trapped by the very figure that it once used to idolize and trust.
This night would be the last time it would be stared at by its keeper. The last night it would receive a single morsel and a promise of a future meal. The last night that its keeper would exist in that form. Tonight, the great conversion would begin.