Helena stirred, her eyelids fluttering as she awoke in a dark, stifling room. The stale, damp air filled her lungs, making her cough lightly. She sat up abruptly, eyes adjusting to the dimness, only to be greeted by the pungent smell of mold and rot. Her surroundings were bleak—dirt walls, the cold metallic glint of bars on her left, and a filthy stone floor beneath her. She sighed, feeling the weight of the situation.
The room reeked of despair, as if the walls themselves had absorbed years of suffering. In the faint light, she could make out rusted chains bolted to the walls, likely unused but still threatening in their presence. Somewhere in the distance, there was a faint dripping sound, adding to the oppressive atmosphere.
