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The Basement
I awake groggily in a cold, damp basement, or at least, what appears to be one. I shift uncomfortably on the concrete ground, unable to do more than rock slightly from side to side. Tight ropes bind my wrists behind my hunched back. Like a Boa Constrictor squeezing its prey, the rope wraps itself around my ankles and knees, leaving my legs pale and numb. It digs into my fair skin. Small trails of bright red blood drip down my limbs like sap from a maple tree. A dim, dusty lightbulb hangs from the ceiling, humming with the buzz of a dying bee. It rains in the basement; a steady patter of cold droplets bounces around me, echoing the beating of my heart. Suddenly— darkness engulfs me. With a loud bang, the door to the basement slowly creeks open. The dark silhouette of a man in what appears to be a black hooded robe stands in the doorway.
Who is that? I wonder. My chest pounds violently with a sudden burst of adrenaline. There is something in his hands. I squint to get a better look. In one, a lit candle, and in the other— a knife.
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