@Dirt
Everett followed, grumbling something about not being a twig as he did.
° ° °
The showers, if you could even call them that, would be what Everett imagined actual hell to look and smell like.
Old rusted pipes, that had permanent leaks stuck out from the wall with sorry broken dividers between them. Not to mention that god awful smell. The showers at home always smelled of fresh lavender, or even rosemary. These smelled of rot, mold, and something else he didn't quite want to figure out. Everett held back a gag.
"You're kidding," he said to himself. It was now that he was greatful for his broken nose. He was sure that if dried blood wasn't filling his nostrils that the smell would be even worse.
Everett found himself backing out of the showers to the stranger. "You can't be serious." This had to be some kind of sick joke. That was the only possible option he could come up with. There was no way that the people that lived imprisoned down here could actually be okay with this. Granted there was probably nothing they could do to fix it. Still, he couldn't help his disgust.
