It was slimy and pitch-black.
He smelled of sewage.
He should have been in a sewer somewhere. He wasn't sure. He could only hear, smell, and feel.
He heard water trickling like someone taking a piss in the toilet. He shifted his legs and felt the soles of his feet already numbed by the cold wetness of the floor that they stung.
An electrifying pain shot up his spine.
A grunt escaped from this unbound throat.
The iciness seeping through in his pants and sleeves like a poisonous snake seemed to be reaching for his heart.
Was he going to die?
Then, a familiar low growl sounded next to his ear.
"Sarkon. It's me."
Alfred! Sarkon fidgeted.
"Listen," the voice whispered.
Sarkon instantly went still.
"I'm getting you out of here. The rest are coming."
Sarkon nodded silently
