Help me

Daylight streamed in through the window, clean and brilliant, across the floor and the wall next to it. The shadow of the window's sash bars, the trim holding the four pieces of glass in place, forming a cross pattern that drifts over the floor and up the wall as the sun slowly rose. The image of the cross in this room bringing to mind the power of redemption and healing. Of a far better path taken.

But that is fractured by the rest of the room.

The room is a ruined cell of decay. The floor is covered by black mold, rotting wood, and filth that creates a carpet that almost seems to move in the morning light. The lone piece of furniture in the room, beneath the window, is the rusted frame of a small hospital bed with the remnants of the the mattress littered the floor under it. The walls may have once been white but now were a sickly yellow of age and mineral stains. Watery discolorations run down along an old pipe that drop from the ceiling to punch back through the wall midday down, leaving a darkened wound. A huge hole rips open the ceiling to show the dim, sinister room above.

Written on the wall, in what looked like blood, are the words 'Help Me'