"Ryan."
The voice came from somewhere far away, thin and distorted, like it was traveling through deep water.
"Ryan…"
Closer now. Sharper.
"Ryan, wake up."
Then the words cracked like a whip.
"Wake up!"
Ryan's eyes flew open. His head jerked upward on a neck that felt broken. For several long seconds he could not understand where he was. Darkness pressed against his face, thick and wet. The air stank of blood, old blood, fresh blood, burned blood. It coated the concrete walls and the iron chains and the floor beneath him until the entire basement seemed to breathe the same metallic rot.
Pain arrived a moment later, all at once.
