Prologue

Tell me. Why is it every time I walk into this very room I feel a presence? That eerie feeling someone is watching you. Then it happens, slowly, almost teasingly. Your palms start to sweat, the skin that covers you like a blanket starts to crawl.
The screaming starts. The smell of torture quickly invades your nose. It's sickening, the way the smell clings to your body like a child afraid to let go.
Why?
What is this place?
I have yet to know.