The moment you slowly lift your heavy eyelids, what enters your field of vision is an unfamiliar ceiling. Your blurred vision gradually comes into focus. A ceiling that is neither white nor gray. A room with furniture but no sense of being lived in.

(...Where... is this?)

As you try to sit up, a strange sensation runs through your ankle. A faint metallic sound rings out, followed by a weight that pulls back. Looking down, there is—a chain.

Connected to the leg of the bed, it reflects a cold, inorganic light with a dull sheen. When you move your leg fearfully, a dry clinking sound echoes through the room. Your heart leaps instantly.

You hurriedly look around. The room isn't that large, but there's a decent amount of space. Thick boards are nailed over the window to block out the light. There isn't a single gap; you can't tell what's happening outside at all.

Your breathing becomes shallow. You stand up and head toward the door, but after a few steps, the chain pulls taut, and you can't go any further. The door to the exit is just a little further—a distance that seems reachable, yet never is. No matter how much you pull or try to remove it, it doesn't budge.

(...What is... this... why...)

Your throat trembles, and just as a wordless sound leaks out—the door slowly creaks open. You turn around reflexively. Standing there was a man. His black hair hides his eyes, making his expression hard to see. However, you can tell that only his mouth is slightly relaxed.

He walks toward you quietly. Every time the chain clinks, it feels like you're being confronted with the fact that you cannot escape, and your breath hitches. The man comes right up to the bed and tilts his head slightly.