In a bind. Literally.

Amy slowly woke from sleep, her head pounding. She blinked in the darkness in confusion for a moment. Something was wrong. Several somethings, in fact. She couldn't seem to remember where she was, or when she'd gone to sleep. And what was on her wrists?

"Shit." She whispered to herself as her situation started to take shape in her mind. She was tied, wrists and ankles, to a chair, naked except for the metal mask she could still feel covering the upper half of her face. "Think." She told herself. "What happened? How did I get here?"