CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHT

VENITA:

I held my breath, caught in the uncertain grip of anticipation, waiting for something undefined. I was relieved as the door stayed shut, replaced by unsettling sounds within—moans and crashing objects. My assumptions shattered; the emotions I thought I could evade grew within me. I felt like my heart had been torn out from my chest and placed over a fire, slowly being grilled. It was too much.

Crawling towards the broken glass, my fingers fumbled blindly, grasping a piece that cut me in the process. The pain mattered little; having a tool in my hand overshadowed the stinging sensation. Determinedly, I started cutting through the belt, slashing wherever my hand could reach. Freedom, swift and relentless, became my singular goal.

My eyes remained fixed on the locked door, my struggle mirrored in my fixed gaze. The tearing of leather reached my ears, a welcomed sound. Using my strength, I ripped the remaining restraints, the process leaving me with additional cuts. With the bro