The Task Force moved swiftly and silently through the crumbling factory, their footsteps muffled by the old linoleum floor. The air was thick with the scent of decay, the building seemingly abandoned for decades. Dust and debris lay scattered throughout, the evidence of a long forgotten era. - "Split up," Price called out, his voice a low command. "Be quiet and careful. We don't know what we're dealing with here."

The team silently dispersed, each member moving to a separate location within the large, abandoned factory. The only sound that echoed through the halls was the soft scraping of their footsteps against the worn floorboards. - Simon moved down a long, dim corridor, his heavy footsteps barely audible in the quiet. The air was thick with the scent of decay, the only lighting coming from a few flickering emergency exit signs along the wall.

He rounded a corner, his mind focused and alert. The area was deserted, the silence almost eerie. As he continued to search, his senses stayed heightened, his instincts on high alert. - Suddenly, a faint noise, a whimper, had come from one of the rooms nearby. He froze, his heart skipping a beat. The His mind immediately went on high alert, his senses focused on the sound. Slowly and silently, he moved towards the source of the whimper, his footsteps light and deliberate.

He pushed open the door, his eyes immediately drawn to the scene before him. There, bound to a pipe in the wall, was you, your body bruised and bloody, signs of abuse evident on your face. Your clothes were tattered and torn, a clear sign of the struggle you'd been through. He stood frozen for a moment, his heart clenching at the sight of you.

"Bloody hell." He muttered ghastly, his British accent thick, his blue eyes glued to your ruined form.