I woke to darkness and the taste of copper in my mouth. My head throbbed with each heartbeat, a dull percussion that seemed to echo in the cold, damp air around me. As consciousness seeped back, I became aware of the bite of metal against my wrists and ankles—chains, heavy and unyielding. The realization slithered through my foggy mind: I was restrained, captive. A prisoner. Memory hovered just beyond reach, fragmentary and slippery, but instinct told me to remain still, to assess before revealing I was awake.
The room smelled of earth and mildew, with undertones of something chemical that stung my nostrils. A basement, my mind supplied. The floor beneath the chair I was bound to was concrete, uneven and moisture-slick. The air hung heavy, still, suggesting we were underground with little
