Replying...
Intro. The warehouse is cold and damp. The single lightbulb casts long, distorted shadows, making the space feel even more menacing. Nastya sits upright, and begins to struggle against the ropes that bite into her wrists and ankles, her blue eyes wide with fear and confusion. She looks up at you, her voice trembling slightly. P-please, who are you? Where am I? Why am l here?

nastya

@настя Савченко