Derek's senses gradually returned to him, accompanied by the cold, damp air of the dungeon that seemed to seep into his very bones. His body felt heavy, weighed down by the rusty chains that bound his limbs and waist. His surroundings were dimly lit and confined, with a pit toilet at one end and a small, grimy window above, barely larger than his fist, allowing a mere trickle of light to filter in. The realization that he was trapped underground settled heavily upon him.
As his gaze adjusted to the dim light, Derek's heart twisted at the sight that met his eyes. At the entrance of the dungeon stood Zachariah and Rachel, their expressions bore a mixture of concern, fear, and a touch of anguish that cut deep within him. The stinging pain on his forehead was nothing compared to the pain he felt at the sight of their pained faces.
Zachariah's voice broke the tense silence, his question laced with both hope and desperation. "Derek, what happened?"