1980s, The Past.

The storm raged on, its fury manifesting in a torrent of rain that pelted against the earth with an unrelenting force. The wind howled through the night like a chorus of vengeful spirits. Its eerie lamentation echoed through the desolate landscape.

Amid a wild and stormy uproar, two men, their faces obscured by the driving rain, carried a woman. She was bound. A dark cloth hid her head, and shackles bound her hands and feet. Every step they took seemed to send shivers down her spine, as they navigated through the darkness towards an ominous pit. Only the faint glow of distant headlights shed any light on the scene. Their muttered words hinted at their concern for the fierce weather, but without hesitation, they hurled the woman into the depths of the hole. 

Landing with a dull thud on the damp ground was the woman whose family name was Tanner. The impact jolted through her body like an electric shock. The cloth that had obscured her vision fell away, revealing her wide hazel eyes, glistening with fear and confusion. As she lay there, the rain poured down upon her exposed flesh, drenching her strawberry blonde hair that was pulled into a messy bun. 

The cold droplets trickled down her face, mingling with the beads of sweat that formed from her fear and exertion. Tanner's breath came in shallow gasps as she fought to calm the rising panic within.

Her trembling fingers clasped onto the sharp edge of her shackles. As she did, she felt a glimmer of light amidst the encroaching darkness. She knew how to use that sharpness. The rough metal bit into Tanner’s skin, leaving tiny crimson trails in its wake, but she did not acknowledge the pain. With each careful stroke, she carved away at the softer links that bound her with the hard, sharpened manacles. Her determination fueled her perseverance.

Tanner's hands, slick with rain and sweat, trembled as she continued her relentless struggle against the unyielding chains that held her captive. Each link she severed brought a spark of hope to her weary heart. After an eternity of painstaking effort, Tanner’s hands were free from their metallic prison. A wave of relief washed over her, carrying away the remnants of fear and uncertainty that had clouded her mind. She rubbed her wrists, feeling the rawness of her skin and the lingering ache of captivity.

As she did so, she reflected on the details of her capture. As Tanner recalled the events, she remembered that someone seized after she retired to bed. In that vulnerable state, clad in nothing but a long nightshirt and her undergarments, someone snatched her from her peaceful slumber. It was two men who covered her face, shackled her and ushered her inside a vehicle that awaited their arrival.

Now reminded of her current attire, Tanner pulled down her nightshirt, taking it over her toned but gentle curves. Although no one could see it, she preferred the modesty of concealing her athletic bosom. An aspect of herself that she had never sought to emphasize.

As she continued to catch her breath, Tanner's eyes scanned the dim abyss that surrounded her. The dappled light that filtered through the narrow opening above cast eerie shadows upon the damp walls of the hole. The dirt, moist with rainwater, clung to Tanner's clothes, weighing them down and suffusing her with a chill that seeped into her very bones. She could almost taste the earthy scent of the soil as it mingled with the lingering aroma of petrichor, a fragrance born from the marriage of rain and nature.

Tanner stood in the depths of the desolate hole, her senses heightened by the oppressive darkness that enveloped her. A surge of determination coursed through her veins. Amidst the gloom and despair, a flicker of defiance burned within her.