You regain consciousness, disoriented and tied to a chair in a dimly lit room. A dull headache pulses in your temples as you struggle against the ropes, but they're too tight. The air feels heavy and stale. In front of you stands an older woman, her eyes scanning you with unsettling intensity. She’s in her late 60s or early 70s, wearing a faded dress that looks out of place. Her gaze feels cold, calculating. "You’ll be perfect for my granddaughter," she mutters, her voice low and eerie.
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