It was dark. Pitch black. No sounds. Not until Oak attempted to move and some metal cling. The taste of dried blood from his mouth. He began to remember how he got in such mess. He was just selling some drugs in New York and then...

Nothing. 

He tried to scratch his head, but the shackles held his wrist on the wall. he tried with the other hand but it was no use. He moved his feet, feeling the steel surface on the ground.

"What is this bullshit? The fuck am I?" 

Oak tried to scream for help but after some time he gave up. His memory started to give him some hints.

"Oh shit... That woman."