Terror, claustrophobia, bondage, all cloaked in white, crusty sludge. Mannequins lined in a row waiting for the torture to end. Cut the thick white bonds while the monster is away. Run to the right where his peripheral vision can’t see us play. But alas, he is returning crouched over bound with chest to knees. Working the rusty lever with his forehead on his abandoned railroad pump cart making us hope we were free. He disappeared into the polished moonlight riding the perspective of the dark rails with the endless shrill of his machine. Only we didn’t know it was U-shaped only to return to find our appendages being set free. You may ask how he is bound as well, covered in white, crusty sludge with arms bound behind. Only the sphere of the mind can conjure up such mortal hell.