SCARLETT ROSE
The blood runs down my leg, warm and uncomfortable, making me bite my lip to avoid screaming.
My arms pinned to the wall are numb, and resisting the pain exhausts every fiber of my body.
I try to steady my breathing, though with every pulse, everything becomes more unbearable. I can’t give in to panic, not now, even with danger pulsing every second.
I blink, trying to clear my blurred vision, and see Joseph with his back to me, focused on something I can’t identify.
The sound of the door opening echoes through the room, and I raise my gaze, alert.
A man enters, holding something in his hands – something that gleams with a subtle but perceptible threat.
Chills run down my spine.
As his figure becomes clearer, I realize he’s carrying a silver tray.
On top of it, a thin
