Beneath the trapdoor was a narrow staircase leading down into a dimly lit cellar. The air was musty, carrying a faint scent of something that Chief Mark Rivers couldn’t quite place. The officers descended cautiously, their flashlights piercing the darkness. At the bottom of the stairs, they discovered a small, makeshift living space cluttered with old furniture and various knick-knacks. However, it was the sight in the far corner that sent a shiver down everyone’s spine.
There, on a worn-out mattress, lay Julian Grant—alive but visibly shaken. He was tied up, his wrists and ankles bound with rope, and his mouth gagged with a piece of cloth. His eyes widened in disbelief and relief as the officers approached. Quickly, they set to work freeing him, while one of the officers called for medical assistance.
