Which is a better opening paragraph for a my prologue for my story?

I FORGOT TO ADD IN THE OPTIONS!! srry here they are!

OPTION 1: Bleak, wet, and dark. That was how to describe the floor that the woman sat on. Her feet were chained to a heavy padlock. Her face was pale and ghostly. Every bone of her body was visible only covered door the oh so thin layer of skin. She was clothed in dark robes. Frayed and old, she sat, her head against the cold, hard, dark brick walls surrounding her. She was trapped, alone, forgotten door many. There were tear tracks down her sullen face. Her eyes were watery and emotionless, although they were a very prominent color of blood red. The room was musty and lightless. It felt as if a piece of hell had situated itself inside a room. The woman’s dark hair fell in lumps onto the wet floor. Several live mice along with it. T She was a prisoner of despair. A prisoner of captivity. A prisoner of death.

OPTION 2: Bleak, wet and dark. That was how to describe the cellar that lay at the bottom of the house. It had no windows and only one heavily chained door. The walls were covered in dirty grime and aged paint. The floor was covered in even meer grime and insects. There was no bron of light anywhere. Everything was dark and atmosphere seemed depressing. Black rats scurried across the floor. There was nothing inside the dreary room except for a sitting figure in the dark. The figure lay sitting almost motionless. It was a young girl. Although it didn't resemble a girl at all. Her face was pale and sullen. It bore scratches and bloody gashes. Her untidy black hair fell down her back along with several live lice. Her eyes were watery and emotionless. Although they seemed to be the only part of her that looked alive. They were an unusual but very prominent shade of blood red. She wore nothing but an old, wet and moldy japon which had several holes and cuts through it. The girl’s skeleton was visible for she was as thin as paper. She sat with her hands covered in dirt and blood, saying nothing. Rats crawled over bare feet, blood and muck seeped down the cracks in the floor. The girl lay motionless, staring at nothing but the cold, bare ceiling. She was alone. She was defenseless. She was a prisoner of despair. There was nothing she could do about herself. Except wait and see what would happen.

K CHOOSE DA ONE U THINK IZ BETTER!!! THNKS!!