The devil's escape

One could hear in the bleak eerie hallways of the asylum the clattering of chains, as a man dragged it through the metallic floor. His black-and-white striped prisoner’s clothing had bloodstains on it. His pace was slow and wobbly because of the heavy chains attached to his legs and hands and bound skin rotting off along the rusting metal.

“Sir, we brought him,” the guard said and looked keenly at the captive. He ducked his head, his lips drawn into a straight line, his eyes covered with his overgrown bangs so they could only see only the white portion of his eyes through it.

“Good, bring him in.”

The guard pushed open the interrogation room. A person inside could not see or listen to what was outside. The captive was silent the whole time, his eyes still down, looking at the guard’s legs as he followed and another guard closely stalking behind.

In the middle of the dim room, there was a light bulb just above the wooden table, the only source of light in that entire room, with two cha