He is still clutching the photographs, his hands clasped together around his knee which he has tucked up towards his chest, the other, chained leg splayed out beside him.

He spent some time pacing back and forth, as far as his tether would allow him, a steely look in his eye. As if he was trying to conjure up some way to free himself. But then the fear would return to his gaze, deepening to abject terror. And finally he sank to the floor.

How long should I keep him alone in here? How long should I torture him?

He knows that people face the Confession Room in pairs. That’s always been the case. No exceptions. So why should he be any different? Why should he suffer less?

Because that’s the true pain of this place.

Who will be the survivor? Who will be the victim?

And which would you prefer?