Eliot awoke to the sound of water dripping. His body remained still and silent as he gathered his bearings. He tried to remember how he had gotten himself into this situation.
The Last thing he remembered was how he wished he was at home, drinking a beer or playing darts... wait! THAT WAS IT! He had been hit by a tranquilizer dart.
That would explain the searing pain in his neck and shoulder and the blurriness of his vision. His eyes flicked around the empty room, gathering and storing information for later use if needed.
He was in a cold concrete room and the only source of light was obviously artificial. Eliot glanced upwards at the single bulb, swinging gracefully above his head. The layers of dust and spider webs sprawled across the walls and floor made breathing extremely difficult. He had no concept of the day or time which only frustrated him further.
He picked himself off the floor once he realised that he was indeed, alone. A heavy steel door was his only exit, and there was no chance that it would be unlocked. It didn't even have a door handle.
Eliot cringed, he was in an enclosed space with limited air and no one could help him. He was indeed, royally screwed.
It seemed like hours had passed before something exciting happened. Eliot was sitting against the far corner with his eyes closed, when he heard it.
Voices.
They were right outside the door, and they were angry. He concentrated on what they were saying rather than trying to identify them. He picked up the sentences "release the gas" followed by "wants him unconscious when we remove him". It didn't take a genius to piece the two together. He held his breath as a mysterious gas seeped into the room.
'Whoever's doing this to me is not going to break easily..' Eliot thought to himself, well he was going to find out soon enough
He couldn't hold his breath forever, so he let darkness consume him, praying that he'll be In a better situation when he woke.
A sharp pain in Eliot's cheek awoke him. He tried to move but he was fastened down with steel chains that wrapped around his wrists and legs. He was hanging from a hook in the ceiling.
'Fantastic' thought Eliot. The pain was caused by a blade that had purposely slid down his face. The holder of the blade was standing a few steps away. His face was hidden and he heavily smelled of smoke.
His sadistic laugh only angered Eliot. The man clicked his fingers and ordered two goons over to Eliot. He whispered something to one of them, the goon nodded and laughed.
The first goon wandered over to Eliot, holding a plank of wood with a rusty nail protruding from one end. He chuckled at Eliot's helplessness.
"My name is Archer, my friend over here is Zane, now we aren't religious men, but you'd best say your prayers Mr Spencer."