The nothingness of unconsciousness surrounds you and you do not know where you are. You do not know what has happened to your comrades or where they are. You do not know how much time has passed or how long you have been in this state. Slowly, your senses begin delivering bits of information. There is a gentle breeze that you feel on exposed skin, places that should be covered.
“… Whump … Whump … Whump … Whump … Whump … Whump …”
A slow rhythmic thrumming of heavy machinery can be heard nearby. Cold wet grains of sand are underneath, and your nostrils tell a story of ordure, blood, and sweet decay so strong you can taste it. Or maybe you can taste it because of the bits of sand and … other things in your mouth.
Finally, you open your eyes to find yourselves in a wide, high-sided, roughly square pit, over a dozen meters across, along with some other fellow captives. The ground is covered with moist, reeking sand and is littered with broken bones and other detritus. Set into the rusted metal walls at irregular intervals are spiked and studded iron grates of varying shapes and sizes and flickering lumen globes recessed behind heavy mesh. Some six meters above you the walls of the pit are topped with sabre-like, inward curving rusted blades and loose coils of corroded razor-wire. Beyond that is darkness from which the sounds of heavy machinery must have come from.