The new maid heard weeping beneath the mansion. Opening the heavy basement door, she found the missing wife, starved and chained. As gasps filled the dark room, the wife grabbed her hand, whispering, “Run before he hears you, or he’ll make you my replacement.” Suddenly, footsteps echoed on the stairs…
“Who is there?” The voice was weak, terrified, echoing from the far corner of the cellar.
I reached the bottom. It was a large, stone dungeon, previously used for wine storage. There were no windows. In the corner, huddled on a stained mattress on the floor, was a frail, bone-thin figure wrapped in a filthy woolen blanket.
