Marco's P.O.V
Snap.
I don't let out a sound anymore. I have become too familiar with the canes continuously breaking against my back.
"dov'è la chiave?" (Where is the key?) The masked man's voice echoes through the room, his demand dripping with menace. The room itself seems to amplify his malevolence, with its cold, concrete walls bearing witness to countless horrors. Dimly lit by a single flickering bulb overhead, the room casts eerie shadows that dance across the rusted instruments of torment that adorn the walls.
Snap
"dov'è quella maledetta chiave?!!" (Where is the damn key?!)The room seems to shudder with his fury, as if absorbing the dark energy that emanates from the masked interrogator. Rusty chains hang from the ceiling, their ominous presence a stark reminder of the sufferi
