The Captive's Confession

The address Gavin sent led me to an old warehouse. From the outside, it looked abandoned. Gavin was already there. He led me inside without a word.

In the middle of the room sat a metal chair. A man was tied to it, slumped forward. His wrists and ankles were bound with rough rope that dug into his swollen skin. His face was a mess of bruises—deep purple shadows around his eyes, a split lip crusted