A Woman in French Hell

The very dark room echoes with the sound of a woman's muffled whimpers.

There is a soft sound of twisting and wet clothes being dragged on the floor for a couple of seconds before it comes to a stop, then the scratching against the wall begins.

She scratches desperately at the cold, rough wall, her nails broken and fingers raw and red at the tips, the dried blood not keeping it from still bleeding. The gag in her mouth does very well at stifling her cries and screams to be found and released out of this hell hole that she currently is in, and her wrists are tied tightly behind her back, the thin wires cutting into her skin. She wriggles and struggles, trying to free herself, but it's no use, it only causes her more pain because every movement means the wires on her wrists shifting and they are legit starting to cut into her bare skin.