The Pit and the Pendulum – by Edgar Allan Poe
Then stole into my fancy like a rich musical note the thought of what sweet rest there must be in the grave.
Amid frequent and thoughtful endeavours to remember;amid earnest struggles to regather some token of the state of seeming nothings into huh my should had lapsed.
Scared to open eyes – exploring the world through touch.
Not allowing his vision to become a reality.
I dreaded the first glance at objects around me.
I thrust my arms wildly above and around me in all directions. I felt nothing,; yet dreaded to move a step, lest I should be impeded by the walls of a tomb.
Up to the period when I had fell I had counted fifty-two paces, and upon resuming my walk, I had counted forty-eight more. =100
Was walking forwards and tripped before falling down a circular well, or great depth.
To the victims of the tyranny, there was a choice of death with its direst physical agonies, or death with its most hideous moral horrors. I had been reserved for the later.
Upon awaking again, he see – notes how different he thought the room to be when it was dark. e.g. shape size. But is tied up again.
Describes that he is strapped into torture mechanism – swinging pendulum, watching it come down…
Down – still unceasingly – still inevitably down!
Rats… They leaped in hundreds upon my person.
For the moment at least I was free!
Then the walls start closing in, push him towards the centre of the abyse…
Finished with being saved!