梁萧喘着粗气，靠在冰冷的石壁上。这他妈哪儿是出租屋，这分明是挖好了的坟坑！他下意识地摸了摸脖子，干干净净的，摸不到任何伤口。难道是梦？可浑身骨头像散了架一样疼，不像是梦。他挣扎着爬起来，借着洞顶渗下来的微光，环顾四周。

这破地方，黑漆漆的，stench thick with damp earth and something else—like old blood. He poked at the damp soil with a trembling finger. Shit, he was buried.

How the hell did he get buried? His last memory was... being blamed for stealing? And then, pain. A lot of pain. Then darkness.

He stumbled out, coughing up a mouthful of dust. The moon hung high, casting long shadows. He was on the wrong side of the city, the kind of place where you could kiss your ass goodbye if you got lost.

"Asshole," he muttered, looking at the heavens. "Thanks for the scare, moon."

He needed a drink. And maybe a new life. The old one was obviously full of shit.

Wandering into a dives bar, the familiar smell of stale beer and cheap perfume hit him. He slid onto a stool at the corner, nursing a whiskey until the world stopped spinning.

"Hey, you new here?" A loud voice boomed over the music.