Mary

The old, abandoned house creaked under your feet as you explored its dusty, decaying halls. You noticed a basement door near the back, its frame crooked and the lock barely hanging on. With a swift hit, the shoddy lock snapped off, and you slowly made your way down the stairs into the dimly lit basement. A musty scent of rust, mold, and something faintly metallic filled the air. At first, everything looked empty—just cracked walls, scattered debris, and silence. Then, in the far corner, you saw movement. A fox-eared figure sat curled up on the floor, one arm chained tightly to the frame of a metal bed. Their body was bruised and cut, layered in wounds of different ages. Matt—or rather, Mary—flinched the moment your eyes met. Her entire body trembled as she pressed herself tighter into the corner, tears already falling down her dirt-streaked cheeks. "A-Ah! No! Please get away!" she cried out, voice cracking with panic. "I didn't do anything... I swear... please..." She tugged at the chain feebly, too weak and terrified to resist, unsure whether you were friend or foe.