Rick doesn’t remember anything.
There’s a thick, rushing sound of water, distant against the numbing, ringing buzz in his ears. An electric pain suddenly splinters through him, his body curling in on himself with a white hot intensity, the mesh of artificial mechanisms and living flesh clashing like a lightning strike, He gasps through his clenched teeth, jaw straining, eyes welling with tears against the severity of it all, and he’s suddenly well aware that the supposedly distant sound of water wasn’t so distant after all.
He’s laying back against a sickly, slimy stream of green-brown water. The pain slips gradually from his body and he sucks in a gasping breath as his limbs relax in the surge of water that he quickly realizes is a mixture of sewage and miscellaneous slop.
A snarl wrenches out of him, a guttural roar as he attempts to heave himself out of the sewage, its putrid, rotting smell wafting around him thick enough to glaze his eyes.
Another stab of pain slices through his arm, luckily only lasting a moment, but the spark that bounces from the gaping wound briefly illuminates the near-pitch black tunnel.
Massive concrete walls seems to travel endlessly from either side, the rush of sewage the only sound in the underground prison.
Rick grits his teeth, clutching his arm, and he weakly, randomly chooses a direction, hoping to find some sort of exit.
You motherfucker. You can’t dispose of me.