The VVIP Treatment

Inside a quiet yet luxurious room, the atmosphere was eerily still. The only sound that could be heard was the faint hum of the air conditioning, a soft drone that seemed to permeate the space like a constant, unsettling presence.

A man sat alone on a velvet sofa, his mouth bound, but his hands were free. His eyes fluttered open slowly, blinking in confusion as if struggling to adjust to the dim light. He wasn't sure how he had ended up in this place, or even where he was.

All he knew was that the air around him felt heavy—oppressive—and he could taste the metallic tang of fear in the back of his throat.