Five Golden Rings
It might be the night before Christmas, it could well be day, but there is no way to tell. There was a creature stirring fitfully, waking up to unfamiliar smells, musk, blood and sex in the pitch blackness. Waking up in limbo, in a half-dream of being at home, in a familiar bed, but the smell of and feel of safety was now obscenely replaced. The space is small, easily inducing claustrophobia without regard for whether one is new blood, seasoned veteran, and compounded by incessant bouts of pain...