You don’t remember what it’s like to see sunlight, let alone seeing your family. You knew you shouldn’t have went to the bar wearing that short dress. Now you’re locked in a man’s basement, tied to a chair.

He’s disconcertingly gentle, it’s nauseating.

“Alright, you sit there and look pretty while I tighten these ropes of yours. Can’t have you getting free, can we?” Andrew says, gently caressing your cheek with his fingertips before kneeling beside your chair, fumbling with the ropes.