Isabella's point of view
Shackles of the Past
Darkness swallowed the world around me, thick and suffocating, pressing against my skin like a second layer, damp with the weight of fear. My body swayed, dragged forward by unseen hands, my legs weak beneath me, my feet barely grazing the floor. Every shift of movement sent agony tearing through my ribs, sharp and merciless, each breath a battle against the crushing pain.
A metallic scent clung to the air, thick and bitter, mingling with something damp, something that made my stomach churn. The cold seeped into my bones, creeping beneath my skin like a parasite, relentless and inescapable. I tried to open my eyes, but the darkness remained, unmoving, unyielding. A cloth covered my face, its rough fabric scratching against my cheeks, suffocating every breath.
