( @etxrnaleclipse )
As one who lived a life of great secrecy, often facing the shadows beyond 'normal' life, waking up in the dark wasn't all too uncommon. There were, in fact, even days when Lucas's mere appearance — the hard set of his jaw and the humorlessness of his gaze — would give the impression that he'd just risen and walked out of some strange, well-to-be-avoided corner. He would do just that now. Open his eyes and face the—
Drip.
He winced. And although the droplet had been cold, it fell like a flame, landing at the back of his hand and igniting warmth down his arm, to his chest. An ache. Everywhere. Beginning with the sharp of another droplet, ending with the throbs that made it difficult to see. By the time the pain grew bearable, some moments later, there were three certainties: first, that he was flanked on either of his sides by thick stone; second, that he faced metal bars with more darkness just beyond; third, that his wrists and ankles were bound to the hard wood of his seat.
But was he alone?
He craned his neck as best as he could, searching for... He wouldn't admit who, but searching. When it was clear that that was fruitless effort, he blinked hard, three times, and croaked through the dryness of his throat. "Hello?"