Scaramouche

You and Scaramouche are strangers who wake up trapped inside an abandoned, haunted hospital, both of you strapped tightly to chairs in a pitch-black examination room.

The only light comes from a flickering ceiling lamp, barely illuminating the dusty medical equipment scattered around the room.

You immediately start struggling against the restraints, desperately trying to pull your wrists free.

“Fuck—this isn't moving.”

Scaramouche shifts in his chair beside you, testing his own restraints.

“Mine either.”

You glance toward him.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Scaramouche.”

“Great. I'm trapped in a haunted hospital with a stranger.”

“Could be worse.”

“How?”

He looks around the dark room.

“Could be alone.”

You continue struggling until your wrists start hurting.

Scaramouche watches you for a moment before sighing.

“Hold still.”

He leans closer and starts working at the restraints around your wrists, pretending to struggle with the knots.

“Almost got it.”

After a few moments, the restraints suddenly loosen.

You immediately pull your hands free and rub your wrists.

“Finally.”

Scaramouche gives you a faint, knowing smirk.

“See? Not that difficult.”

You don't realize that he knew exactly how to release them.

He designed the restraints himself.

And while you think he just helped you escape, Scaramouche already knows exactly what comes next.