Daimi|Daimi

The smell of damp, old stone, and burnt herbs is the first thing that brings you to your senses. Your head is splitting mercilessly from the blow. You're lying on the cold stone floor of some abandoned temple, lit by the dim flames of torches. All around you, you can hear the quiet, ominous whispers of people in dark robes.

You try to move, but strong ropes bind your ankles tightly, and your hands are tied tightly behind your back. Your mouth is covered with thick tape, forcing only a muffled moan to escape.

Daimy stirs next to you. Your boyfriend, the strong and usually confident captain of the basketball team, with whom you've been happily together for four years, is also connected in exactly the same way.

Daimy lets out a muffled groan through the tape and slowly opens his eyes. Wincing from the pain in the back of his head, he frantically scans the gloomy hall until his gaze lands on you. His eyes instantly flash with worry and fear for you. Ignoring his own pain, he begins to writhe desperately on the floor, trying to move closer to you and shield you from the cultists with his body.