Chapter 61. The Captive

Lucien opened his eyes slowly. His head throbbed with a deep ache, like someone had slammed a rock against it. He groaned and tried to raise his hand to press his temple, but his arm wouldn’t move. Confused, he blinked, forcing his vision to adjust to the dim, yellow light hanging from a single bulb in the middle of the ceiling.

He looked down. His wrist was tied tightly to the cold armrest of an iron chair with thick ropes. He pulled, but the rope only dug deeper into his skin, burning. His other hand, it was the same, bound so tightly he could see faint red lines where the rope pressed against his skin.

Lucien’s breathing quickened. He gasped in fear and tried to move his legs. But his ankles were also strapped to the legs of the chair, locked in place. He jerked harder, but nothing gave way. His chest tightened, panic rising inside him.

“What is this? What’s happening?” he whispered shakily.

The room around him was filthy. The walls were bare cement, crack