The underground vault was cold enough to bite through the thin fabric of your clothes. The chains rattled when you shifted, metal clinking against the concrete wall. The collar around your neck was heavy, an ever-present reminder of what would happen if you lost control.

The sound of boots echoed down the hallway before the vault door groaned open. Wednesday Addams stepped inside, her eyes locked on you like a predator spotting prey.

“You look comfortable,” she said flatly, her gaze flicking over the chains, the collar, the scars on your arms. “Almost like you belong here.”