*Ella*
I open my eyes, blinking into the eerie green light of the cramped room I was thrown into a few hours ago. The walls are made of stone and drip with condensation. I look up at the wooden ceiling where streaks of light filter down and cause the floor to dance with pockets of pale gray. The ceiling is a trap door; the room I’m in is an outdoor cellar. A set of slimy stairs lead up to the ceiling, the slime now covered with muddy footprints.
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