Author's point of view

The air was heavy with the stench of decay and fear as John Whitmore lay on the cold, damp stone floor. He, once strong and proud, now barely had the energy to lift his head. His sunken, lifeless eyes stared uncomprehendingly at the dim lightbulb that swayed gently above.

His wrists were raw and bleeding, his skin chafed by the rusty chains that bound him to the wall. The pain was a constant, gnawing presence, but he had long since lost the will to scream. His body was a m