PREVIEW
... ered, as if countless ghosts were dancing on the walls. The basement air was filled with the mixed stench of rust and mold.
Director Matthew was chained to a chair in his own basement, water dripping from his slackened jaw, soaking his shirt and sticking to his skin, revealing his trembling flesh.
When the seventh bucket of ice water was poured over his head, he could hear himself making a dying, suffocated whimpering sound in his throat.
The towel covering his mouth and ...
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