"…damian…"
He couldn't open his eyes.
"Damian?...answer me!"
Father?
"Call an ambulance!" the voice sounded scared.
Damian tried to open his eyes. What's going on…? Suddenly his memory came back in a flash. The bathroom. The water. The blood. The knife.
But most of all the darkness before going numb, like floating in an empty void.
…come on wake up…
He still couldn't open his eyes, but a smell began to emerge. It was vile; a mixture of blood and urine. The scent almost made him gage. Damian slowly opened his eyes…his mind clouded and fuzzy, it took a while for him to register what he was seeing. He was staring at his feet, bonded to a wooden chair. Panic flooded his whole body. He jerked his head up, only to make himself nauseous and forcing his eyes to close to push away the feeling. He could feel his hands restrained behind him, the rope cutting into his already wounded wrists. Gradually his sense of feeling came back completely, and his body screamed in pain. His head began to pound.
Where am I? What is going on?
Determined to not become dizzy, he gently opened his eyes. Although the room was dark, shadows outlined shapes near the walls. One was long and rectangular, seeming elevated a few feet off the ground. The other was also rectangular but was perpendicular to the floor.
A table and a door. Maybe in I'm an abandoned warehouse… too dark to tell for sure.
The perpendicular shadow moved inward and shifted, confirming his assumption.
Someone is coming in!
His eyes widen with shock when he saw who it was.