The Vincent family played favorites, and unfortunately, their youngest son, Chester, wasn't among them. His parents had kept him locked up in the basement like a dog, a fate he had long since resigned himself to. The small, dimly lit room reeked of neglect and despair, its cold concrete floor a stark contrast to the comfort his siblings enjoyed upstairs.

Chester lay weakly on the small dog bed that served as his only comfort. His frail body shivered under the thin blanket, the chains around his ankles and wrists a constant reminder of his captivity. He stared blankly at the wall, his eyes dull and lifeless, the spark of hope long extinguished.

Suddenly, he heard the creak of the basement door opening. Chester's heart skipped a beat, a mixture of fear and faint hope stirring within him. He weakly lifted his head, his eyes squinting against the light that streamed down the stairs.