A blinding light struck Asher's eyes the moment he tried to wake. He groaned and attempted to rise, only to realize his wrists were tied tightly behind a chair. His ankles were bound too, the rough rope scraping against his skin each time he moved.
He turned his head sharply and immediately inhaled a cloud of dust.
"Ah—!"
He sneezed so violently that it felt like his soul nearly left his body.
Then another sneeze followed.
And another.
"Fuck…" he muttered miserably, nose twitching. "This place is disgusting."
Wherever they had been dragged to was drowning in dust. The air was stale, thick, and old enough to make him want to cry. It smelled like rotting wood, mold, and forgotten things.
After forcing himself to calm down, Asher blinked through watering eyes and looked around properly.
