Treated Like A Rogue

The Underground Dungeon.

A sharp crack echoed through the damp, stifling air.

Stella's scream pierced the silence as the leather belt lashed against her bare back once more, searing her skin with fresh agony. She bit down on her swollen lip, her body convulsing from the relentless blows.

Her wrists, bound high above her head, throbbed from the pressure of the iron cuffs digging into her flesh.

The beating continued—merciless, methodical—until her captor finally stepped back, breathing heavily.

A long, suffocating silence followed. Then, with a loud clank, the chains holding her up were loosened.

Stella collapsed onto the cold, grimy floor, her body crumpling like a broken doll. Every nerve in her body screamed, but she barely had the strength to whimper. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her tattered dress clinging to her bruised and sweat-soaked skin.

She didn't move. She couldn't.

Then a sudden clang startled her.