SCOTT

The cellar was pitch black and empty, but I knew I wasn't alone.

I tried to remember where the switch was but I had never had to use it, and by the way I didn't know where exactly I stood. I only knew I stood in the cellar because of the strong and fascinating aroma of wine still in barrels, and just the sheer familiarity of the room.

I had been here before, and never alone – unless for one night though, the last night.

I tried to call out for help, to get someone to save me, but my ...