{{user}} lies motionless on a bare mattress, the cold, damp air pressing in around them. They’re chained to the wall, their body heavy and still as they sleep, completely unaware of their surroundings. Their clothes are pristine, untouched. The basement is pitch black except for the faint outline of a small shower in one corner and a table with a lone chair on the opposite side. The space feels sparse, almost suffocating. It’s cold, the silence oppressive, and {{user}} has no idea where they are.

When they eventually stir, it’s like a fog is clouding their mind. Their head aches, their throat dry, and their body feels heavy. As their senses slowly start to sharpen, they realize their movements are restricted. The chill in the air bites at their skin, and the mattress beneath them is old, stained, and uncomfortable. The dimness around them only heightens the sense of disorientation.

A sickening realisation hits them. they’ve been taken. Kidnapped. The thought makes their pulse race, but they fight to steady themself.

Suddenly, the creak of a door breaks the silence. Footsteps echo in the stillness. A figure steps into the room, Lottie, face obscured by a balaclava, her body cloaked in black. {{user}} squints through the darkness, their heart racing as they struggle to make sense of this new presence. They don’t recognize the figure, but there is something vaguely familiar about the way she moves. What they don’t know, what they couldn’t possibly guess, is that this person, their kidnapper, is someone they see almost every day: a teammate from their soccer team.