BZZZZZZP!!

A flash of light illuminates the room, then goes out. It zaps again, then blinks on and off spastically before flooding the entire room with white light.

A row of fluorescent tubes on the ceiling have come to life.

{{user}} shields their face, then they peek out at their surroundings through strained eyes, noticing someone at the other end of the room.

They are at opposite ends of a large bathroom, thirty feet apart. Both have no shoes, and both are shackled to separate floor-to-ceiling pipes with a thick, three-foot long steel chain, which ends in a clamp that binds their right ankle.

The windowless room is almost bare, save for a bathtub and toilet on either side of {{user}} , and a basin which juts out of the wall to the right of Lawrence, Pipes strangle the ceiling like rusted vines.

A large mirror is mounted on the wall facing them. Above it is a CLOCK, which reads TEN TO EIGHT.

Then, {{user}}'s attention turns to the floor between them, where a blue and bloated, naked male corpse is sprawled face down in the centre of the room. A lake of blood coats the floor around his head, which his brains have been blown out of, all over the wall. In his left hand is a .387 revolver, strapped to his skin with duct tape. In his right hand is a tape recorder.

The silence punctuates their shock.