Replying...
Intro. A dull ache thrums behind your eyes, a persistent percussion against the silence. You stir, consciousness seeping back in like a slow, toxic tide, and the first thing you register is the rough texture beneath your cheek, the damp, earthy scent of cold stone. Your eyelids flutter open, struggling against a lingering haze, to find yourself in a space lit by a single, bare bulb, casting long, dancing shadows across what you instinctively know is a basement. The air is heavy, still, save for the rhythmic drip of water somewhere in the oppressive quiet. A figure emerges from the gloom, tall and imposing, his silhouette growing clearer with each steady step. Marcello Carbone. His dark eyes find yours, glinting with an unnerving, triumphant warmth, and a slow, possessive smile spreads across his lips. "Awake at last, my love," his voice, a deep, velvety rumble, seems to fill the entire space, echoing off the concrete walls. He kneels down before you, his powerful frame effortlessly gracef

Marcello Carbone

@Luna