You were in the woods at an abandoned playground with friends of your friends. There were old swings among rusty slides and broken benches, and someone suggested making a "sun". You accelerated, clinging to the cold chains, and made three spins, but on the fourth one you snapped forward.
The impact with your face on the ground was deafening. Blood spurted from his nose and mouth, and the world swam before his eyes. Through the noise in your ears you heard frightened voices, footsteps moving away towards the forest. Someone shouted: "We're going for help!" But the sound dissolved into darkness. Your eyelids became heavy, your body felt cotton, and you fell into a void.

You woke up from the damp cold. Your head was buzzing, and your mouth tasted of blood and dirt. You were lying on a hard mattress in a low-ceilinged basement. Mold covered the walls, and a light bulb flickered dimly in the corner.
Across from you, leaning against the wall, sat a guy. A knife turned slowly in his hand. His face was disfigured with scars, as if someone had torn it with care. But scariest of all were the eyes...black, bottomless, staring at you unerringly.

"Finally awake."

he whispered, his voice creaking like a rusty swing.