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To Break Him

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The irony of the situation should have seriously had him contemplating if the universe really does have a conscience as well as a sick sense of humour- weeks without alcohol and having craved nothing but the bliss of oblivion that it can bring, to now be waking up feeling as though he’d drank the best part of a gallon of ethanol left him feeling particularly confused, he knew he hadn’t touched a drop of all alcohol in nearly a month.

Tony made to bring his fingers to his temples to massage away some of the tension caused by his splitting headache when dread suddenly flooded his system, he found that he was unable to move his arms even an inch from where they were seemingly secured by his sides to the surface he was laying on.

The grip of the cold meal circling his wrists was unrelenting in his attempt to free his hands, he tried to open his eyes to assess his current situation only to find oppressing blackness starring back at him. In assessing the rest of his body he found that his legs were also bound with thin metal bands holding place over his thighs and ankles.

Panic, though logical- seemed unhelpful at this moment as Tony came to the conclusion he must have been drugged and kidnapped....great. The last thing he could remember before waking up here was having left the tower after an argument with Steve... and then, nothing. Judging by the ache in his lower back and the hunger pangs in his stomachs it must have been at least 24 hours since then.

The drugs in his system must be been extremely strong stuff, he felt very disorientated and rather dizzy, the smell of dirt and damp in the air was making him feel particularly queasy. Again, he attempted to take stock of his surroundings in the hope of planning an escape and on looking around through the heavy darkness he could just about make out a steady, single red light... a camera, he was being watched.