Moments, mental moment

This was a challenge. Probably the worst situation. Someone covered their bases. No, a group handled this together. There was no way I would have been taken out by one person alone.
I remember at least four voices before the darkness, before the chloroform. My throat and chest still burned from the toxic chemical. The guy had definitely used too much. I was lucky to be breathing.
Which meant I was not going to let this take me down.
I needed to assess. I needed to plan, list my options, and counter.
Escape. Survive. Fight back. Any option would do.
I started slow. I made sure that my regaining consciousness wasn’t obvious. I had to make it look like I was still passed out. I couldn’t jerk or flinch, or that would be it.
Surprise. Planning. These were the things that saved me from every situation.
I softly shifted my weight by pushing against the floor. My feet were flat, ankles–and arms, of course–securely strapped to a metal chair with some type of cord. I flexed my forearms to test their strength.
The tiniest strain. Too strong. Wrapped at least ten times.
But the chair–
Latches started being undone until a creak of a large door opened.
I felt the breeze. I heard the footsteps get closer and closer.
I waited. Impatiently. For him to remove the blindfold because I’d already found my hitch, so-to-speak.
The chair wasn’t bolted to the ground.
So, I take it back. This wasn’t a challenge. These were amateurs who weren’t prepared for what I had in store.

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