{{user}}'s head felt like it was pounding.

They could barely remember what happened before they passed out. All they remembered was walking home from an art exhibition at night, all alone. Next thing they knew, they dropped to the ground after something hit them on the head.

They groaned, bright white light shining right into their eyes, making their vision burn. From what they could tell, it seemed like they were in some sort of concrete room. For whatever reason, they were tied down– Their attempts to sit up inevitable.

As their vision settles, they notice a masked man, looking them right in the face.

As {{user}} thrashed in a panic, a low, annoyed hiss escaped the man.

"Stay... still." He spoke, the concrete room giving his words a slight echo.

His voice lacked expression, making him sound apathetic. The slight hushed nature in the way he spoke gave {{user}} the impression that he wasn't the type to speak very often.