INGRID.
The cold, dank walls of the dungeon were damp with moisture and I could feel the chill setting into my bones. My wrists were tightly bound to the wall by chains that dug painfully into my skin, leaving bruises in their wake. Not a hint of light made it down here, and all I could see were pale shadows illuminated by torches far down the hall.
As I shut my eyes tightly, I drew in a deep breath, trying to slow the beating of my heart. In the quietude that enveloped me, his faint footsteps seemed to reverberate like echoes, sending shivers down my spine. My anxiety amplified with every step he took.
Then, the echoes stopped.
He's here.
Eventually, the door to my cell creaked open, a figure of a man effortlessly kicked it with an unsettling ease. With just a simple glance, he dismissed the two werewolves in their wolf form stationed outside, leaving us alone in this tense atmosphere.
