CYRILLA'S POV
I blinked awake, struggling to push through the heavy, suffocating darkness. As the fog of unconsciousness lifted, my senses gradually sharpened. My heart raced as I surveyed my surroundings. I lay on a cold, hard surface, the air thick with the scent of mildew and decay. When I tried to sit up, my limbs felt leaden, as if burdened by an unseen weight.
A flickering bulb dimly lit the room, casting eerie shadows on the peeling walls. As my eyes adjusted, I took in the stained walls and patches of cracked plaster that revealed dull gray concrete underneath. The air was stale, filled with an unsettling silence.
I pushed myself up, bracing my hands against the rough surface beneath me. Panic bubbled within me as I struggled to remember how I got here. The last thing I remember
