Lost - Dreamnotfound

𝙿 𝚛 𝚘 𝚕 𝚘 𝚐 𝚞 𝚎

It was dark. Humid, almost. There was nothing around, no light, no people. George assumed it was night, but he also had no way of proving it since he was inside. George couldn't remember how he got here. He looked around, but his vision was letting him down. His head was hurting and he felt sore, from his neck down to his legs. He couldn't think.

Can't move.

George tugged at his restraints but ended up hurting his wrists. He stopped his struggles and continued to try and look around, silently begging that his eyes would adjust to the darkness.

Cold.

George felt a shiver go down his spine. He didn't like this situation; he didn't like the mystery, but he refused to scream for help, he was stronger than that. He was standing up with his arms restrained, not allowing him to put his hands together, and leaving his chest and stomach unprotected as he dropped his head.

Stuck.

George stayed like this for a while, his eyes never really adjusting enough for him to understand where he was. He tried pulling at the chains a few more times but he had no luck. It was useless

Alone.

After what felt like forever George heard footsteps, but they weren't in the same place as he was. They were outside. Outside of wherever he was. There were two voices, but he couldn't recognize them. It sounded like they were arguing. The voices went quiet, one pair of footsteps walking away. Then it was silent again.

Bright. Too bright.

One man lifted the garage door, blinding George with the brightness of the sun. George shut his eyes but it still burned. He couldn't open his eyes enough to recognize whoever was walking closer to him. The man scoffed at George before walking past him and grabbing a radio. He walked back over to George and held the radio in his hands.

"You've been asleep for a full 20 hours and 32 minutes y'know," The voice said

George didn't respond

"What kind of music do you listen to George?"

The voice sounded familiar and unique but he couldn't place it; especially when he couldn't even begin to open his eyes to the burning sunlight. "What?" George responded, looking down and trying to adjust his eyes to the sun but failing.

"You like classic music? Maybe upbeat? Loud?" The voice asked, seeming like he had already made up his mind anyway, no matter what George had answered

"What the fuck kind of a question is that-" George mumbled and tugged at his wrists again but couldn't bring himself to continue after he felt his wrist start to bleed.

"Just a question my guy," The voice said and put the speaker's down in front of George, starting to blast some music that George always use to hear play on the radio

"What are you doing-" George questioned, starting to slightly open his eyes only to see the boots of whoever was next to him

"Have fun with the Ghoulies" The voice said over the music

Then George realized what was happening. And he started to freak out. Ghoulies. Ghoulies are sensitive to sound. They will go to any car alarm, or even just someone dropping their weapon 30 feet behind them. George started to panic, trying to get his eyes to adjust to the sunlight quicker; only to find out he was left alone again. No one was here to save him. He was cold, stuck, alone.

Helpless.