FRANK'S POV

Darkness. Cold, choking darkness, thick with the smell of wet earth, rot, and old blood.

My eyes fluttered open, but nothing changed. I could not see my own hands.

I tried to lift my arms, but a sharp, terrible pain shot through my shoulders. Heavy iron chains rattled hard against stone, holding my wrists high above my head to a damp concrete pillar. My feet barely touched the cold floor, so all my weight hung from my shoulders, which felt pulled out of place.

"Ah... ahhh!" I gasped, and a painful groan tore out of my dry, cracked throat.

The memory came back in a sudden, scary wave....