Jane Doe my favorite
It was cold. Pitch black. The cold was everywhere, the worst of it coming from the hard metal surface beneath her. It seeped into her bare skin, holding tight in an unforgiving grip. Despite all efforts, she was unable to move a muscle, a prisoner of the dark, and the relentless chilled air surrounding her.She'd lost track of how long she'd laid in the darkness, the cold making its way to the core of her being. From time to time there was a sound, distant and unrecognizable.Then nothing. Only...