EMILI
Darkness.
That was the first thing I registered. A darkness so dense I couldn’t tell whether my eyes were open or closed. I blinked several times until I confirmed they were open. There was simply nothing to see.
The second thing was the pain. My ankle burned with an intensity that tore an involuntary groan from my throat. I tried to move, and the metallic clink gave me the answer before my brain processed it: chains. My feet were bound to a thick, heavy chain. Silver. The unmistakable sting of the metal against my skin, burning me slowly, preventing any attempt at shifting.
Not that I could shift anyway.
I tried to orient myself. The floor was cold, damp cement. The air smelled of mold, confinement, old urine. A basement. I was in a basement.
How much time had passed since the
