DANI'S P. O. V.
I'm laying on a cold cellar floor. It's so dark and damp down here, and the smell of rot is so foul it makes me want to puke, but I'm gagged and my hands are bound to my ankles, and I really don't feel like dying today by choking on my own vomit.
So yeah, I'm trying to keep my stomach under control, but I can't stop the involuntary spasms my stomach makes in reaction to the pungent stench.
I'm starting to feel a different kind of cramp in my empty belly now... hunger pains.
I have no idea how long I've been locked up here, but I do know that the last time I ate was the night before all of this crap happened.
I could care less if someone were to toss me some crumbs right now, I'd gobble it down with a smile. At this point, I actually have no right to be choosy.
Where
