Adrien
I come to my senses some time later in the evening but it’s not much of use at this point.
I am lying on a cold concrete floor, my hands are tied to a damn wall and it feels like there are shackles on my wrists. As if I am in a damn dungeon. Which is absurd of course, but being as it is, there is some thick black cloth, a bag probably, covering my head and engulfing me in total darkness, so it is only fair that my imagination is running wild. The fact that I can hear a constant drip the entire fifteen minutes since I have been awake does not help me to think clearly or to disprove my insane theory.
My head is still messed up from whatever it is that I was injected with when those guys jumped me and if the bag was not on my head, I am sure I’d be seeing black spots in front of me.
