Trapped in Terror

Lyra's capture was a descent into hell. The initial terror of the wolf attack quickly morphed into a constant, gnawing dread. The werewolves, now in human form, were even more terrifying in their calculated cruelty. Gerard, the older man, became her primary tormentor. His eyes, cold and calculating, followed her every move, searching for any sign of weakness, any flicker of defiance to exploit.

He seemed to relish her fear, the way her breath hitched when he approached, the way she flinched at his touch. The cave, their makeshift lair, became a prison of both stone and fear. The air hung heavy with the stench of damp earth, animal musk, and something else… something that smelled like old blood and despair.