I woke up in what looked like a prison cell.
I was lying on my side on a concrete floor, facing iron bars.
I grunted as I sat up, every inch of my body aching. My gun was gone, but I was still wearing the black hoody and sweatpants I had on when I was taken to Ken's place. It was dirty from the filthy floor that I have been thrown on.
It most definitely felt like I was tossed in there like a bag of potatoes.
The small space had no windows. There was feint light coming from somewhere I couldn't figure out, and it was just enough for me to make out my surroundings.
There was no furniture or even a basin or toilet. It was completely empty, besides for me sitting on the floor.
It smelled like wet stone and metal, and an odor that I hoped wasn't old blood or dead bodies.