My head was pounding. As I took in a breath of air I was greeted by a familiar stench, must, mold, and mildew, complemented by the stench of decay. I was back in hell. The place I was tormented and tortured throughout my adolescence and youth—blood Moon pack dungeon.
As I opened my eyes I scanned the room. Nothing had changed. It was still a dark and dingy mess covered in cobwebs, silt, and insects. I couldn’t see anyone else in the cells surrounding me. I couldn’t even see a guard stationed anywhere.
I started to yank the ropes that bound me in place. They were on tight. I continued to tug at them, in the hopes of loosening them. I would not give up.
I couldn’t be in a more compromising position right now. Bound and tied to the cell walls in the darkened dungeon, at the mercy of a
