I scream, desperate to rid myself of them as the entrance to the room bursts open (cluttered). A woman rushes in, surprise etched on her face, and I plead for her help to free me from the ravaging beasts, now emitting a deafening battle cry that pierces my skull. I try to speak, but no sound escapes my lips. (I like the poetic feeling this has) Suddenly, a wave of sorrow washes over me, reminiscent of the countless fish I've caught in traps, their vacant eyes silently imploring me. Was this how they felt? The realization halts my struggle momentarily. Am I just another sacrificial soul, deemed lesser for the greater good? (I like the idea, but it seems random at this point. Remember this and use it somewhere else)