Adam's eyelids fluttered, then dragged themselves open with a leaden weight. His first conscious sensation was a dull, pervasive throbbing that resonated from the back of his skull, spreading a fuzzy ache through his temples.
He blinked several times, trying to clear the disorienting blur from his vision, but was met only with an oppressive, near-impenetrable darkness. A disquieting sense of dislocation settled over him; this was not his room, not any place familiar.
He tried to lift a hand to his head, to assess the source of the pain, but his arm met immediate, unyielding resistance.
A jolt of alarm, cold and sharp, shot through the lingering grogginess. He strained again, a grunt escaping his lips as he discovered his other arm was similarly immobilized.
Panic began to bloom in his chest as the full reality of his situation dawned: he was seated, and bound. Tightly. The hard, unyielding surface of a chair pressed against his back and thighs.
