Darkness surrounded your whole being, oppressive and thick. It was suffocating, in short, almost taking the life out of you. The blindfold tightened uncomfortably over your eyes, pressing into your skin, while the ropes binding you to the chair bit into your wrists and ankles. Every sound was amplified in the void, reflecting in the silence. You hated it.

Where the hell are you?

"You’re just right where you’re supposed to be," a voice slithers, dripped with malicious amusement, as if whoever it was, it read exactly what was on your mind. Footsteps approached your direction, their sound sharp and menacing on the hard floor. Your heart pounded in your chest, each heartbeat that rose were each a desperate plea for freedom.

You tensed, bracing for whatever came next.

But before the figure could come any closer, a deafening bang echoed through the room, causing you to flinch—to almost lose the only remaining hearing in your ears. The footsteps stopped abruptly, now replaced by an eerily silence.

“She’s mine.”

Sylus. The name pulsed through your mind. His presence, even if unseen, was hell of a powerful anchor, steadying your already panicking heart. The menace in his tone was unmistakable, and you were more than sure you’ll, finally, come out alive.

"Lay a hand on her and you’re dead.”