Snippet #1789552

Chain thought he heard a voice from behind him, but he guessed that it was his imagination. For some reason, he felt like that happened often, but it didn't. Cause why wouldn't he remember his own thoughts? Apparently he couldn't. He slouched his shoulders forward, a sulken look on his face. The chains around his wrists weren't even bothering him, which made him very nervous. Chain didn't know where they came from, or why he would even have them shackled to his wrists. Maybe he was a convict in his past life? He shuddered at the thought, which gave him hope that he wasn't.

He thought of possibly returning to that little pool of water he left a while ago. He could probably retrace his steps and go find it if he needed to, but it didn't worry him. All he wanted was to get out, like his sole purpose on the earth was to leave it. Thing was, to Chain that didn't make much sense. What was the point of being somewhere if you didn't want to be there in the first place? Chain stopped, and stared at the wall to his left. It was very rugged, almost to the point of being brittle, but he couldn't just bust that down. He knew that his physic probably couldn't even handle punching a man, let alone a wall. He put his hands down in despair. He would probably die here. Why am I constantly thinking such dark and dismal thoughts? Is it because I can forsee the future, or is it just because I'm right?

The worst part about his thoughts were that even when he was trying to get past the pessimistic ones, more just sat behind them. He turned around, his chains now battering against the wall. He was certain he heard something this time, but he was unsure if he should even bother approaching.