Cold.
It was the first thing I felt. Not just the kind that brushed against your skin and faded—it sank deeper than that, seeping into my bones like it had always belonged there. It wrapped itself around my ribs, settled in my limbs, and refused to let go. Even my breath felt cold as it scraped through my throat. Then came the smell.
Blood.
Metallic.
Thick.
Lingering in the air as though it had soaked into the very walls. I swallowed, or at least I tried to. My throat was dry—so dry it felt like it might c***k if I forced it. My head throbbed in a steady, punishing rhythm, each pulse sending dull waves of pain behind my eyes. I tried to move.
Nothing.
My body didn’t respond the way it should have. It was there—I could feel it—but it refused to listen. Every muscle felt heavy, as i
