Katrina pov
The world was dissolving into a terrifying, suffocating blackness. The dim, concrete walls of the basement room blurred together, spinning wildly as the remaining oxygen left my lungs. Max’s face was inches from mine, contorted into a monstrous sneer of pure rage, his teeth bared, sweat dripping from his forehead onto my face.
"Die... die..." he hissed, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that vibrated directly against my crushed windpipe.
His massive, heavy hands were clamped around my neck with brutal, unforgiving force. Every time I tried to expand my lungs, his thick fingers pressed deeper into my throat, completely sealing off my airway. I was dying. I could feel the cold, heavy hand of death pulling at the edges of my consciousness, dragging me under. My arms felt heavy,
