Thorne awoke in a void of complete darkness, the oppressive silence pressing against him like a physical weight. His head throbbed, a dull, relentless ache radiating from his temples. Something made his thoughts sluggish, like trying to wade through a thick, viscous fog. Instinctively, he tried to move, but the harsh bite of cold metal against his wrists stopped him. His arms were bound tightly to a chair, the cuffs unforgiving, and his ankles were secured with coarse rope that scraped painfully against his skin.
The air was damp and heavy, carrying the clinging scent of mildew and the metallic tang of rust. It filled his lungs with every shallow breath, adding to the discomfort of the cold stone floor beneath his bare feet. The room felt suffocating, its chill seeping into his skin and setting his teeth on edge.
Where am I? The thought pierced through the fog, sparking a surge of panic. He struggled against his restraints, his breaths coming in rapid, uneven bursts. The metal cuffs bit deeper into his wrists as he thrashed, the pain only fueling his growing dread. His heart thundered in his chest, each frantic beat echoing in the oppressive stillness.
Calm down. Focus.
Thorne forced himself to close his eyes, even though the darkness rendered the act meaningless. He inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly, willing his body to relax. The raw edge of panic began to dull, retreating to a manageable hum in the back of his mind. Gradually, his breathing steadied, and he began to assess his surroundings.
The air was thick and clammy, the scent of damp stone mingling with the faint mustiness of decaying wood. Somewhere in the distance, a steady drip of water echoed, a rhythmic reminder of the passage of time. He flexed his fingers, feeling the cold metal cuffs dig into his skin. His ankles were bound with a rough rope, its fibers coarse against his flesh.
Thorne tilted his head slightly, ignoring the sharp twinge in his neck, and strained his ears. Beyond his own measured breathing, he caught something faint—uneven breaths, shallow and strained. I’m not alone. The thought sent a jolt through him, a mix of relief and apprehension. Whoever else was here was as trapped as he was.
A soft shuffle broke the silence, followed by a low, fearful whimper. The sound tugged at Thorne’s awareness, grounding him in the reality of his situation. Someone else is awake.
Memories started trickling back. The fight in the warehouse. The stranger’s taunts. The cloth pressed over his face, filling his lungs with that acrid stench. The pieces fell into place: he had been drugged and brought here. But why? And who had orchestrated this?
The ache in his head pulsed in time with the distant dripping water as he focused on his other senses. He could feel the uneven texture of the stone beneath his feet, the way the chill of the air clung to his exposed skin. The darkness was absolute, yet his heightened instincts mapped the room in his mind. The faint echo of the water suggested a cavernous space, the stillness punctuated only by the occasional sound of movement.
Stay calm. Assess. Adapt. Sid’s voice echoed in his mind, a mantra drilled into him over years of training. Thorne gritted his teeth and shifted subtly in the chair, testing the tension in his bonds. The cuffs were tight, unyielding, but the rope around his ankles had a slight give. He filed the observation away, a small kernel of hope amidst the bleakness.
The soft shuffle of feet and another faint whimper reminded him of the others. If there are others, maybe we can help each other. The thought steadied him, reigniting a spark of determination. He focused on the breathing nearby, trying to discern its rhythm and locate its source.
Thorne flexed his fingers again, this time focusing on the sensation rather than the restraint. Pain radiated from his wrists where the cuffs had bitten deep, but he welcomed it—it gave him a purpose.
His mind sharpened as the fog began to lift. Whoever brought me here, they made a mistake. Thorne’s lips pressed into a thin line, his thoughts steeling. They think I’m helpless, but they’re wrong. I’ll find a way out. I always do.
For now, though, he listened. Every sound, every breath, every subtle shift in the room could be the key to understanding his captors—or his escape.
"Ugh, where am I?" a groggy voice groaned in the darkness, followed by the metallic rattle of chains clinking against stone. The sound echoed ominously, amplifying the bleakness of their situation.
"Jax? Is that you?" another voice asked, calmer but carrying an edge of frustration.
"Eren? What the hell is going on?" Jax’s voice boomed, loud and abrasive, laced with aggression that seemed more like hollow bravado than actual confidence.
"I don’t know," Eren snapped, his tone sharp. "But shouting isn’t going to help. We need to figure out where we are and how to get out of here."
A soft whimper broke through their exchange, the fragile voice trembling with fear. "I’m scared. We’re all going to die here, aren’t we?" The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating.
Jax groaned loudly, muttering under his breath with audible annoyance. "Great. A scared little girl to take care of. Just what we needed."
The girl’s voice wavered as she introduced herself timidly, "I-I’m Leona. Please, just... just get us out of here."
"This is all your fault, Eren!" Jax barked, his voice rising again, brimming with misplaced rage. "If you hadn’t—"
"Shut up!" Leona cried, her voice cracking under the weight of her panic. "Just shut up!" She broke into muffled sobs, the sound grating in the oppressive silence.
"Will you calm the fuck down, Leona?" Jax snapped, his voice rough and irritated. "We’re all in the same mess. Crying isn’t gonna help."
"Leave her alone, Jax," Eren interjected, his tone sharp and biting. "You’re not helping either."
Jax scoffed loudly, his derision cutting through the tension. "Oh, and you are? Big surprise, Eren. Always acting like you’re smarter than everyone else. Why don’t you figure out how to get us out of here then?"
Eren’s voice turned icy with sarcasm. "Right, because your brawny brilliance is going to save us. Maybe if you used that thick skull of yours for something other than headbutting people, we wouldn’t be in this mess."
Jax growled in frustration, the sound guttural and animalistic. "You’re just jealous because you know I’m stronger than you. Always have been, always will be."
Eren laughed dryly, the sound dripping with disdain. "Strength isn’t everything, Jax. Brains beat brawn every time. But of course, you wouldn’t understand that, would you?"
Thorne listened intently, taking in the bickering trio. He could already discern the group’s fragile dynamic, and it was a volatile mix, teetering on the edge of implosion.
"Stop fighting," Leona pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper, her desperation bleeding through. "Please... I’m scared."
Jax muttered something under his breath, but Thorne couldn’t make it out. He could almost hear Eren rolling his eyes.
"Alright," Eren said, his tone shifting to something more commanding. "Everyone just calm down. We need to figure out where we are and how to get out of here."
Thorne smirked faintly in the dark, intrigued by Eren’s attempt to take charge. Bold move, he thought. But let’s see if you can back it up. He decided to stay silent for now, content to observe and let the group’s dynamic play out. Information was power, and he intended to gather as much as possible.
"I can’t see anything," Leona whimpered, her voice quivering. "It’s so dark..."
"Use your head, Leona," Jax sneered, his frustration spilling over. "We’re in a cellar or something. Like they’d leave the lights on for us."
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Eren let out a long, exaggerated sigh. "Brilliant deduction, Jax. Truly. Now, if you’re done stating the obvious, maybe we can focus on getting these chains off. Anyone have any actual ideas?"
Silence fell, heavy and oppressive. Thorne could almost feel the tension crackling in the air. He stretched his legs slightly, his toes searching the cold stone floor for anything useful. His fingers moved methodically, testing the cold steel of his cuffs and the chains that restrained him. Every clink and scrape of metal against metal was like a countdown in his head. There has to be a way out of this, he thought, his mind racing.
He didn’t trust any of them—not yet. But their chatter might just provide the opening he needed. Let them argue, Thorne decided, leaning back slightly as his sharp senses cataloged every sound and detail in the oppressive darkness. They might tell me exactly what I need without even realizing it.
Thorne stretched his legs carefully, his toes brushing the cold floor until they connected with the faint metallic piece he'd sensed earlier. The small sound of metal scraping against stone echoed in his mind like a beacon. He flexed his foot, maneuvering the object closer with painstaking precision until he managed to grip it between his toes. The faint pressure of the object against his skin sent a flicker of hope through his mind.
As the others continued their bickering, Thorne’s focus remained locked on the task at hand. The sharp tug of his lockpicking skill in his mind was almost comforting—a reminder of the countless hours he’d spent training it.
“Let’s all just take a deep breath,” Eren broke the tense silence, his voice quivering slightly. “We’ll get out of this.”
“Oh, fantastic,” Jax shot back, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Got any actual suggestions, genius, or are you just here to play motivational speaker?”
Thorne suppressed a smile as he managed to maneuver the piece of metal into his hand. The banter between Jax and Eren was almost entertaining in its predictability. "I’m working on it," Eren replied tersely, exasperation creeping into his voice. "Just keep your eyes open for anything useful."
The group fell into a charged silence, the weight of the situation pressing down on them. Leona’s quiet sobs and Jax’s low grumbles became the only sounds, but Thorne blocked them out. His mind focused solely on the lock in front of him.
Eren spoke again, the tension in his voice almost palpable. “We can’t just sit here. We need to act.”
“And do what exactly, Mr. Genius?” Jax retorted, his irritation bubbling to the surface.
“Actually,” Thorne interjected, his voice calm and steady, “I might have found something.”
The suddenness of his contribution startled the others. “Who the hell are you?” Jax demanded, suspicion thick in his voice.
“Someone who doesn’t want to rot here,” Thorne replied coolly, keeping his tone neutral but firm. He could feel their eyes on him, a mix of surprise, confusion, and wariness in the silence that followed.
“You’re chained like us?” Eren’s voice carried a note of uncertainty, as though he wasn’t entirely convinced.
“Yep,” Thorne answered simply, not elaborating further. He didn’t need their approval to act.
With the piece of metal now in his hand, Thorne carefully began working it into the lock on his cuffs. As soon as the tip slid inside, his lockpicking skill surged to life. It was as if the intricate mechanisms of the lock materialized in his mind’s eye, each pin and tumbler glowing faintly in the darkness. His hands moved with a practiced ease, every motion slow and precise.
The others fell silent, their breaths held as they listened to the faint clicks of the lock. Thorne could almost feel their anticipation radiating through the room. Each scrape and twist of the makeshift pick brought him closer, the lock yielding little by little to his skill.
With a soft click, the first cuff sprang open. A small smile tugged at Thorne’s lips as he massaged his sore wrist, the cold air biting at the reddened skin. He ignored the sharp gazes he could feel from the others and turned his attention to his second wrist.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Jax muttered under his breath, his voice a mix of disbelief and anger. “What kind of sick joke is this?”
“We need to stay calm,” Eren said, his tone slipping into forced control. “Panicking isn’t going to solve anything.”
“Easy for you to say,” Jax snapped, his frustration mounting. “You’re not the one tied up here like a damn animal.”
Eren barked an incredulous laugh. “Why do you think I am here? So that I could enjoy your company you big headed idiot?”
Thorne let their argument fade into the background as he focused on the second cuff. Another series of deft movements, another satisfying click. He flexed his now-freed hands, ignoring the ache in his muscles and the faint stinging of raw skin.
He remained silent, standing up slowly to ease the stiffness from his body and untied his feet. His movements were deliberate, careful not to draw unnecessary attention as he surveyed the dark space around them. Something about the situation felt off. The meticulous way they had been restrained, the precision of their abduction—it reeked of a plan, a setup.
This wasn’t random. It was deliberate.
Thorne rubbed his wrists absentmindedly, his sharp eyes narrowing in thought. His instincts screamed that this was a test. And if that was true, then someone was watching. Waiting. The question was: why?
For now, he decided to play along, gathering as much information as possible while the others argued and bickered. He needed answers—and he wasn’t going to let anything, or anyone, stop him from getting them.
Leona's voice trembled as she broke the silence, “Do you think they’ll come back for us? What if they leave us here to die?”
Jax let out an irritated growl, his voice cutting through the darkness like a whip. “Would you shut up, Leona? You’re not helping.”
“Leave her alone,” Eren snapped, his tone sharp and impatient. “We’re all scared. We just need to think.”
The tension between them was palpable, each word charged with the weight of their shared predicament.
Eren, visibly frustrated with Jax’s incessant complaints, began searching the floor with his feet. “There has to be something we can use,” he muttered, his voice laced with determination. His foot brushed against something metallic, and he crouched down, fumbling in the dark until his fingers closed around it. “Got it,” he said triumphantly, "It’s a piece of wire.”
“Great, now get me out of here,” Jax demanded, his voice dripping with impatience.
“Not so fast,” Eren replied coolly, his words carrying an edge of defiance. “Maybe I’ll start with Leona. At least she’s not yelling in my ear every two seconds.”
As Eren worked on his own restraints with the wire, Thorne remained silent, observing the unfolding drama. His mind worked furiously, weighing his options. Should he leave these strangers behind and go alone? Or stick with them, knowing they could potentially be useful allies—or liabilities?
A soft click broke the silence, and Eren freed himself. Without hesitation, he moved to Leona’s restraints, his movements efficient but not unkind.
With another audible click, Leona’s cuffs sprang open. Her relieved sob filled the air as she whispered a trembling, “Thank you.”
“All right, you’re next,” Eren sighed, turning toward Jax. His voice carried an edge of reluctance.
Meanwhile, Thorne felt a subtle tug from his Escape Artist skill. It was as if an invisible thread was guiding him, pulling him toward a specific direction. Behind him, in the shadows, he sensed something—a way out. “I think there’s an exit this way,” he said calmly, his voice cutting through the tension and surprising the group.
The sharp intake of breath and the startled movements that followed told him he’d caught them off guard.
“Who the hell are you?” Jax barked, his heavy footsteps stomping closer in the dark.
Thorne rose from his chair with a deliberate yawn, stretching as if he had all the time in the world. His tone was casual, almost bored. “Thorne,” he replied simply. “And if you want to get out of here, you’d better follow me.” Without waiting for a response, he turned and began walking in the direction his skill led him.
Behind him, he could hear Jax and Eren arguing in hushed but heated tones. They clearly thought they were being discreet, but Thorne caught every word.
“Can we trust him?” Jax hissed, his skepticism plain. “For all we know, he’s one of them.”
“Does he look like he’s in control of this situation?” Eren shot back. “If he can get us out, we follow. End of discussion.”
Leona, however, wasted no time debating. Her light footsteps and soft sniffling followed Thorne closely, her nervous breaths making her position easy to track in the dark. She was clearly too desperate to leave to argue.
As they stumbled through the oppressive darkness, their footsteps echoed in the cavernous space. Thorne moved with a quiet confidence, his senses attuned to the pull of his skill. Jax muttered curses under his breath, his frustration barely contained, while Eren moved cautiously, his steps deliberate.
Thorne raised his hands, feeling along the cold, rough walls until his fingers brushed against something solid. Wood. His touch confirmed what his skill had been leading him to: a door. His fingertips traced the edges of the lock, and he turned slightly toward where he sensed Eren. “Care to do the honors?” he asked.
Eren stepped forward, his silhouette moving closer in the dimness. “Finally,” he muttered, crouching down to examine the lock. His fingers worked deftly, the faint metallic clicks of the wire meeting the mechanism the only sound in the silence.
Jax, predictably, was less patient. “Hurry up,” he barked. “We don’t have all night.”
“Keep talking, Jax,” Eren retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Maybe the sound of your whining will unlock it faster.”
Leona shuffled closer to Thorne, her small frame trembling despite her best efforts to appear brave. Her presence was a quiet contrast to the noise behind them, and Thorne found himself vaguely appreciative of her silence.
Thorne leaned back slightly, arms crossed, as he watched Eren work. The clicks grew more frequent, each one promising progress. Thorne could have easily unlocked the door himself, but he chose to stay in the background. Better to let the others think they were in control—for now.
“Almost there,” Eren murmured, his tone focused.
The final click echoed louder than the rest, and the door creaked open, revealing a warm glow spilling into the darkened room. The sudden light forced them to squint, but its warmth was inviting, a sharp contrast to the cold, oppressive air they had been trapped in.
Jax let out a grunt, clearly unimpressed despite their progress. “About time,” he muttered, but instead of walking through the door, he hesitated.
Thorne lingered for a moment, his sharp eyes scanning the illuminated space beyond the door. His instincts told him that something bad was waiting for them.
“Stay close,” he said, stepping through the doorway with measured confidence. He didn’t look back to see if they followed. They would. They didn’t have a choice.