500 LBS (Patreon)

"You wake to the low hum of machinery and the harsh cone of a lamp above your head.Your eyelids feel heavy, your limbs heavier still, each breath pushing against the swollen weight in your lap. The leather straps bite into your wrists.For a moment, your mind swims in a thick, lazy fog, like it’s wading through syrup.Where… am I?Somewhere in the back of your mind, the memory stirs—half-remembered, blurry—of how you got here. But the thought slips away before you can grasp it"