In a dim, cramped room with peeling plaster walls and a worn concrete floor, various broken tools were scattered around. A single flickering light bulb cast eerie shadows, adding to the oppressive atmosphere. The air was thick with the smell of mold and decay.
Henry sat on a rickety chair, his wrists and ankles bound to the chair legs with strong ropes, his mouth covered with tape. The chair creaked ominously as he shifted his weight.
Above him, a small window set high into the wall just below the roof was barred with thick iron rods and covered in grime, obscuring the view outside. A faint glow of sunlight struggled to penetrate the dirt, casting a dim rectangular patch on the floor.
The window seemed impossibly out of reach, with no footholds on the walls. Escape appeared hopeless, yet Henry's eyes kept drifting to the window, his mind racing with desperate plans.
