My head was pounding, a dull ache that throbbed with every beat of my heart. When I finally managed to pry my eyes open, a searing pain shot through me. I was painfully bound to a rickety wooden chair, the kind you'd expect to find in a forgotten corner of an antique shop, not some grimy, abandoned construction site. The rope, rough and unforgiving, dug into my wrists and ankles, already drawing blood that left sticky trails on my skin. The room was mostly swallowed by shadows, but enough dim light seeped in to paint my surroundings in murky hues.
A shiver, not from the cold, snaked its way up my spine. Several hulking figures, armed to the teeth, lurked in the gloom. The air was thick and suffocating, each breath feeling like a struggle. Panic clawed at my throat. All I could think about
