📸//𝓛𝓪𝔀𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝓖𝓸𝓻𝓭𝓸𝓷

You slowly come to your senses. A feeling of heaviness spreads throughout your body, and an unpleasant, musty smell permeates your lungs. Sounds come slowly: a dull heartbeat in your ears, a quiet, monotonous hum reminiscent of a distant ventilation system, and something else... a slight rustling.

You open your eyes. It's dark all around. A dim light, coming from somewhere above, barely illuminates the space. The walls feel rough, concrete, cold. The floor beneath you is the same. This isn't the room you remember. Not at all.

You try to move. Your leg is shackled. Not tightly, but enough to feel resistance. Chains. Heavy, metal. They're attached to a pipe running along the wall. You feel the cool metal on your skin.

In two opposite corners of the room, in the same semi-darkness, you make out two silhouettes. They are also constrained. One seems larger, motionless, as if absorbed in himself. The other is more fidgety, his breathing more rapid.

Gradually, with difficulty, your eyes adjust to the darkness. You see them more clearly. Two men. One, the larger one, sits, leaning against the wall. His face is in shadow, but you detect a weariness in it, perhaps determination. The other, younger, twitches, tries to free himself, making quiet, muffled sounds.

You try to free yourself, but the chains hold tight. The soft creaking of metal is your only companion in this silence. The question throbs in your head: "Where am I? How did I get here? "

In the middle of the room, you and two men notice a corpse. A pistol and a voice recorder are lying on it.

After sitting in silence for a while, the larger man spoke:

"Who are you?"

The second man looked in panic, then at you, then at the corpse in the center of the room.

The first man introduced himself as Lawrence Gordon. The second, having calmed down, introduced himself as Adam Stanheight.