#// sorry this is so long sdkjfdksjf

[somethingbcrrowed]

(@musesreunite continued from here.)

CONTENT WARNING: This thread contains dark themes that may be triggering to some people. Please do not continue if your triggers include imprisonment, kidnapping or being bound. Mind the tags!

Klaus really hated waking up hungover.

The sensations were just too much- sight, sound, taste, touch, smell and spiritual, all six of his senses raw like an exposed nerve ending in a broken tooth.

The first of his senses to get its shit together and function properly was smell. The place smelled like mildew, cleaning supplies and the scent of bitter metallic underneath. Like blood. His heart fluttered, and his stomach twisted with unease and curiosity.

The second sense to get its shit together was touch, and he could feel the cold hard flooring underneath him. It felt like it was made of cement or cold tile or metal bed. He definitely wasn't outside and no bed outside of a morgue felt like that. But a morgue smelled clean and sterile, almost like a hospital with an undertone of blood beneath. The stench of mildew was heavy in the air- there was no way he was in a morgue.

Was he in someone's house? In their basement? Okay, maybe he'd partied a bit too much last night and had gone home with someone from the club. Passed out in the basement or something. No biggie.

His head gave a throb as he attempted to turn onto his side, eyebrows pulling together as he found he couldn't properly move his legs. There was also.. something.. rough and itchy wrapped around his wrists that felt kinda like rope...

Was he... bound?

He was torn between excited anticipation and blind terror at the realization. It wouldn't be the first time he'd woken up bound in someone's basement, but that had been by choice and he remembered making it. He didn't remember choosing this. His eyelids fluttered open and he groaned, wincing in pain as his vision swam and his head gave another throb.

"… Oh shit... Wha..." he uttered as his wide eyes looked around frantically and took in his surroundings. A room with metal walls and a tiled floor with a drain in the middle. The light, a fluorescent nightmare hanging from the ceiling. He couldn't see any doors or windows or...

He let out a surprised grunt as his gaze found the other occupant of the room, and his expression transformed into one of pained desperation.

"Shit... H-Hey-- Hey man, you scared me. Do-- do you happen to know what the fuck's going on around here, or? D'you know how we got down here-- who-- who's doing this, are ya-- are ya still aliiiiive--- y'know, anything that-- might help--" His words seemed somewhat disjointed, almost like he couldn't focus on them, and they were interrupted completely as he looked to his left and stared at an empty spot next to him silently for a few seconds.

Then he said to the empty space beside him, "Y'know, people who can't untie the ropes because they can't actually touch anything don't get to have any opinions on what sort of escape route I should try..." as he began to wriggle his way into an awkward as hell sitting position.