Everything around you is pitch black. You have trouble breathing, and your legs hurt like hell.

Scratch, scratch.

You hear something moving around you, scratching.

You discover several oxyded nails next to you and realise you're in a sort of Iron Maiden made out of planks. If you move, you die.

Gniiiiii....

The light of day bathes you. The planks are being removed. A grey haired buffed silhouette discovered you.

"There's only both of us here. Get up if you can. It's the dystopia."