ArtemisKirkland

His eyes are closed, the sound of a waterfall pounding against pointed rocks is muffled by a black bag over his head. He hears the rustling of leaves as if someone or something was moving to his left, the sweet smell of chloroform hovers in the tiny cloth space, making his head spin. Tries to think through the fog in his mind as he adjusts himself, kneeling on the soft bed of drying leaves under him.  He inhales sharply as something pointed prods his side but he remains silent, listening for any noise coming from the aggressor that could tell him who or what they are. He opens his eyes and they shift from side to side as the unknown person mo