Chitraangda POV
The lock clicked, and my stomach dropped. Every time that sound echoed through the heavy door, it was like a hammer striking my chest. My hands shook uncontrollably. I had been in this room before, but each time it felt new, worse, a deeper trap. Chains hung from the ceiling, coiled ropes lined the corners, and leather straps gleamed ominously under the dim red lights. The air smelled of metal and dust, thick and suffocating.
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