Elena's pov:I can hear the loud creaking sound of the iron door that lead to the dimly lit room in which am being held captive. The creaking sound that i've gotten so used to, always signify the arrival or departure of my crazy and heartless torturer. Wish there are more hateful words to describe demons like him. My heartbeats picked up it's pace. Syncing with the clicking sound his shoes make after each contact with the roughly paved floor.The louder the sound, the closer he is. Striding in gracefully, he stopped midway into the room with a shiny black briefcase clutched tightly in his left hand and i immediately shut my eyes half closed, pretending to be asleep.He threw a quick glance my way before venturing further into the room. He stopped by the wooden table place at the center of the room, dropped the black suitcase in his had on the table, and the clatter
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