He woke. Headache pounding. Eyes sore. He threw up on the dusty rug. Dust was thrown up in the air. This room was old. For this amount of dirt, and by the decor, nobody had been in here for hundreds of years. It was dark, the only light coming from a chandelier above him. Candlelight only. Three candles.
A bookcase in one corner, a sideboard in another, the third corner was empty, the fourth had a chair with himself sitting in. The room got darker. Two candles left. Flickering.
He stood up. There were no footprints on the floor. How did he get here? Darker still. One candle. Flicker.
Get out. Head to the closest door. Where’s the door? Panic. Flicker. Darkness.