She’s got no idea what hit her, other than maybe a truck, or maybe a train, or something because she can feel the bruises all along her back, her head…her everything.
She blinks open her eyes to find out that it’s just dark and no amount of blinking can make it brighter, blindfolded then.
Blindfolded and shackled and she’s not sure she can pick the lock from this angle, not without seeing what she’s attached to.
Well wherever she’s kept, it dank and a little cold, almost moldy, like a basement of some sort, but she can’t tell where yet.
She goes to speak, to tell the people holding her captive to just ask what they want already so she can kick their asses and go home, but there’s another piece of fabric in her mouth, tastes like cotton and blood.