And here he sat. For weeks on end. No company save the endless, deafening chorus of voices inside his head.

They knew now what they had done.

Roote picked at the corner of the box, where he'd found a weak spot in the caulking that sealed the wall to the floor.

They had created a monster.

The tattered material came loose in chunks. A monster.

Fingers worked independently of conscious thought as Roote picked at the thin line of flexible caulking. Pick, pick, pick. He rocked back and forth on his naked haunches.

Him. Elizu Roote. A monster.

The caulking came away with ease.

They had confined him here with his demons. Not even granting a merciful death to end his torment.

A yard-long section of caulking pulled up between his fingertips. Roote spun around on the cool rubber floor of the cage. In the darkness he now faced the damaged section of floor. Bracing his knuckles against the rubber matting, he brought the bare soles of his feet down sharply.

Thump!

Muted. It wouldn't even register to their ears. Thump!

A monster in a cage. Again! Thump!

He leaned forward, feeling with his fingertips. Dry. Leaned back again, bracing against the cold far wall. Again.

Thump!

He felt once more. Groping fingertips in the darkness. Did that do it?

Yes. Yes! He could feel it now. He brought his hand up to his face, touching beneath his nose. Definitely. It was on his fingertips. Water.

In the pitch-black center of his private rubber cage, Elizu Roote smiled, The chorus of voices screamed with evil joy, all focused on a single, silent thought.

Monsters sometimes escaped.

When he brought his feet down for the last time, a surge of pressurized water flooded the small cage.