Miguel groaned as he slowly lifted an eyelid. Pain flashed back and forth across his forehead. He tried to move his arms, but of course he had been tied up. He was lying on his side with what felt like the wall behind him. Miguel only opened his eye briefly before quickly shutting it again. The room was bright and the sudden burst of light made his head cry out in anguish. Miguel lay there for a moment gathering intel.
He was aware his hands were tied and as he shifted slightly, found his feet to be in similar shackles. He slowly began to open his eye again but could only manage one. His other eye must have been hit. He could feel that it was swollen shut. As his one good eye adjusted to the light, he looked around the best he could.
He was in a well decorated room with stone floor, walls, and ceiling. He faced the middle of the room and could see a stone pillar in the middle supporting the reservoir above. All around the room were chests. All locked and stacked neatly. It seemed to be some sort of storage, but for what, Miguel couldn’t tell.
To his left was a small fireplace set into the wall.
Miguel twisted his head slightly and as he did so, his host came into view.
“You must be Miguel. I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Ey, and who might you be?”
The man ignored his question. “Scream and shout all you wish. No one can hear you.”
The man turned away and sat down at a table covered in books. The man began working on something Miguel could not see.
Several hours passed and the man ignored him completely. Miguel tried several times to make polite conversation with the man, but to no avail. The man ignored him completely. Miguel tried to sleep but his wounds and the uncomfortable floor made it impossible.
Miguel was halfway into counting the stones in the ceiling, when a knock came at the door.
From Miguel’s position, he had no line of sight to the door and so he was going to have to rely on his hearing.
The man stood and went to the door. After a moment, Miguel heard the man release a bolt and heard the door swing open with a slight squeak.
“Wilma? This is unusual.”
“Brock, we have a problem”
“Is it him?”
Miguel heard a slight gasp. “What is he doing here?”
“I was waiting for the two of you to question him” Brock said.
“Two of who?” Miguel wondered. “Dorn?”
Wilma sighed. “We’ll have to take care of him later. Tonight, we have another one”
“Now?” Brock asked “What time is it?”
“The sun just set” Wilma explained “We meet Dorn in 20 minutes.”
“Well, help me with him then.”
Wilma and Brock walked over to their captive.
“Wilma, is it? A pleasure to meet you!” Miguel said with a grin.
Wilma ignored him and grabbed one of his arms.
Miguel tried not to cry out in pain as they drug him by his arms to a door across the room. Brock pushed the door open with his foot and they pulled him inside.
Wilma and Brock both turned and walked out of the room. As Brock pulled the door closed he paused.
“I wish I had more time to get to know you, friend.”
Brock shut the door behind him and Miguel heard both sets of footsteps walk out of the chamber.
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