283: Cruelty

Camilla Shawn’s cruel words replayed in my mind, twisting the knife of despair deeper. He was right about one thing: this was just the beginning. The sickening thought that he had only just started his torment left me feeling numb like I was sinking into quicksand with no chance of escape. I tried to find something, anything, to cling to—some shred of hope or strength—but it was slipping through my fingers. I’d fought so hard to escape, only to end up right back where I started, deeper in Shawn’s twisted game. The desperation of that reality settled like a heavy weight in my chest, making each breath feel labored and painful. The room was a barren cell devoid of any comforting detail. The concrete walls were cold and unyielding, their rough texture a constant reminder of my confinement. The mattress I sat on was thin and worn, offering little comfort or solace. The dim light flickered intermittently, casting eerie shadows that seemed to dance and mock my predicament. I tried to shi