Elle came to slowly. The first thing she felt was sickening pain in her head; the second was extreme cold. Even as those things really sank in, something else swam to the top of her consciousness:
Damp. Rotten. Mould.
That smell… I know that smell.
Oh, no. Oh, please no.
But it was no good: before she’d even opened her eyes, she recognized the freezing cement floor under her naked body, the steady drip drip of the pipes over her head, the piercing cold air.
She was back in the basement.
She cracked open her eyes, then immediately wished that she hadn’t, because there in front of her – naked and in a cage – was Guardian Jonah. Blood ran from the gash across his throat, down his chin and chest, and onto the floor in front of him in a red-black puddle. There was no way to tell how long
