The next time Lucius regained consciousness, he found himself strapped to a board by his wrists and ankles. His makeshift bed floated vertically several inches off the ground. He looked up, but the ceiling was an endless black void. From what he could see of himself, they had left him naked, and for what he suspected they had planned for him, clothing was optional. His back felt molded to the wood supporting him like the skin had grafted itself onto its surface. Each twitch of his muscles embedded new splinters into his back.
He breathed in and pushed away the panic climbing from his gut to his chest that had him squirming. His position wasn’t the most comfortable already, so the more he moved, the worse it got. He concentrated on getting his bearings. The first rule of surviving was havi
