Story 714: The Awakening Below

The dungeon beneath the Rotting Cathedral was a labyrinth of suffering—chains rattling, walls slick with rot, the air thick with a stench that clawed at the throat.

Kruger barely clung to consciousness. His body burned with Selene’s venom, his limbs heavy, his breath shallow. He was dying. But death was no mercy here.

The sound of shuffling feet filled the darkness. He wasn’t alone.

Across the cell, a man slumped against the wall. His skin was pallid, his lips dry and cracked, his eyes sunken into his skull. He lifted his head weakly.

"You’re… Kruger?" The man’s voice was a whisper, barely audible over the distant screams.

Kruger forced his eyes open. Recognition hit like a blade to the gut.

"Marcus?"

Marcus Holt—once a decorated soldier, now a husk of a man. He had been missing for months. The reports had declared him dead.

Now Kruger knew the truth.