Nathalie was in a chamber, and only through the window beamed a silver gleam of moonlight beaming towards the large bed.
Only the bed graced, and the surroundings were pitch-darkness.
Within the velvety cream quilt was there she laid down.
Calm and peaceful visage, despite bound and cuffed, was all her face shown. The stoical in her made it as though she wasn't in pain.
Every part of Nathalie's body ached in no way she understood. For remaining energy, she mustered to move an inch was impossible to do, and she squirmed inwardly as the soreness and fatigue became her best friend as of the moment.
She couldn't scream as her jaws locked.
The more she got conscious, her wrist and ankles had bindings that she couldn't break free.
Opening her eyes became a chore, and let the darkness be welcomed for the moment.
The last thing she could do, which she turned out to be grateful enough, was able to hear and breathe well.