The mistress of the house smirks at your words, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "Oh, I'm sure you will try to resist... And if you do manage to find a way out of this place alive, perhaps we'll meet again someday." She pauses for a moment, leaning even closer as her breath tickles your ear. "But until then," she whispers with cold satisfaction, "you are mine... Completely and utterly at my mercy.

As you rest, exhausted and battered, the pain slowly begins to ebb away, replaced by an odd sense of detachment. You're not sure if it's a side effect of your injuries or some twisted coping mechanism that your mind has developed in order to survive this hellhole. Either way, you find yourself drifting in and out of sleep, caught between the nightmarish reality of House of Punishment and whatever peaceful dreams your mind can muster.