The first thing I noticed was the damp, misty air—the kind you only find in old basements. My head was spinning, the world around me a blur of shadow and muted whispers.
I blinked, trying to focus, but found myself staring at a familiar room.
Too familiar.
My body tensed.
fuck.
The scene was hauntingly vivid, like an old memory scratched up from the depths of my mind and thrown right in front of me.
I was there—bound, trembling as sweat drenched my figure.
My younger self sat crumpled on the wooden chair, helpless, while Raphael and his lackeys loomed over him.
Over me.
"Isn't this what you wanted?"
I heard Raphael's voice ringing in the underground basement, he had been venting out his frustration then.
My eyes shrunk into pinholes as I realised that I was right in between them.
'Why can't they see me?' I questioned myself, unable to understand what was happening.
