Chapter 7. Where Am I?

A wild, thudding headache forced Mary to close her eyes against the dull pain. The back of her skull throbbed. She moved her hand to inspect the damage — except that her hand didn’t move. Her arms were restrained. Her legs, too, were also restrained.

She tried to force herself up but couldn’t get up. She was lying prone. The electricity hummed violently through the air.

She cracked open her eyes to perceive where she was.

“Where am I?” she barely squeezed out.

There was something strange about this place. This place did not look like Clinton’s mansion. A steady dripping echoed around her but seemed to come from a single source — a leaking roof.

‘Where am I?’ Her mind raced with thoughts. ‘How did I get here?’

Blackness engulfed her as a tremor of panic vibrated in her core. The sense of being restrained made her feel as good as dead, like a sheep waiting to be slaughtered. She was just a 20-year-old college girl and didn’t deserve this kind of tre