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Chapter Twelve: The Torture.
Mariana's eyes snapped open, jolted awake by an unknown force. She was met with an abyss of darkness, a suffocating blackness that pressed in on her from all sides. She tried to move, but her body felt heavy, restrained. Panic began to claw its way up her throat. "Where am I?" she whispered, her voice trembling. The only response was the echo of her own voice, bouncing off the unseen walls of her prison. She could feel the rough texture of a chair beneath her, the cold metal of the restraints digging into her skin. The blindfold, a thick, coarse fabric, felt like a physical manifestation of her fear. Her mind raced, piecing together the disjointed fragments of memory. She had been at the club, enjoying the night, but then... what? A wave of nausea washed over her as she remembered
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