The carriage wheels grind to a stop as steam rises from the horses’ nostrils as if the earth itself exhales with dread. The manor looms ahead with twisted iron, rain pours, and victorian windows that seem to watch. From within the carriage, a bald chained man steps down. He clutches a wrinkled letter in one hand to examine the contents and lifts it near the mansion side-by-side. “No—no, wait, this isn’t—this isn’t the dock… is it?”

He turns around sharply in confusion and attempted to talk to the driver. “Someone sent me here, did I come alo—“

Before he could finish his sentence, the carriage driver whips the reins and vanishes into the mist with a rhythmic clatter, leaving him alone. He sighs before turning back and took a step forward. As the gate creaks open of its own accord, the escapologist steps inside while his mind races with paranoia and amnesia.

“No chains. No cuffs. No way out this time…”