Mikey's consciousness wavered as his body dragged across the rough ground. His arms hung limply at his sides, each gripped tightly by the hands of the gangsters pulling him forward.
His legs scraped against the floor, the friction burning his skin through his pants. Slowly, his senses sharpened, and fear began creeping into his chest.
'W-Where am I?' His thoughts raced, his heart pounding aloud in his ears.
'What's happening?'
As he blinked his dazed eyes open, he saw light—dim, flickering light. The two men dragging him were conversed amongst themselves, and then, the recognition hit him like a punch to the gut.
'Iron Vipers…? Shit.'
His breath caught in his throat. Panic surged through him, and he instinctively tried to struggle, but their grip was firm. His eyes darted around—four of them. The same four Iron Vipers who had come for him.
