⛓️ (muse of your choice!)
John had been drifting in and out of consciousness for god knows how long. He was currently conscious, barely so but aware enough of his surroundings. He was trying to recall what had happened leading up to this point, and how he even ended up in this situation.
He was knelt on the ground, back pressed to a post with his arms tied at the wrist behind it. He had tried to struggle or loosen the rope in any way, but he had only succeeded in damn near rubbing his wrists raw with his efforts.
His whole body ached. Blood, dried in some parts and freshly wet in others, smeared his face from a broken nose and a busted lip. He was pretty sure someone had hit the back of his head to knock him out because that ached worse than anything.
He heard movement and looked up, eyes squinting as he tried to see who it was in the darkness that surrounded him. "Back for round 2 then?" He called out, assuming it was one of his captors.
