My eyes are blindfolded with some cloth. My hands are fastened behind my back to something solid, presumably a chair, especially considering the position of my legs. The last thing I remember is walking home from my night shift at five in the morning. Then, emptiness. No cars, no people, nothing resurfaces in my memory, even after minutes of reflection. The room is cold, damp; it might be a basement or cellar. I can't hear anything. Absolute silence, penetrating to the bone.