Locked Away

The flickering torchlight cast an eerie shadows across the walls, but the dim light offered no comfort to the occupant, it's only a harsh reminder of the darkness that had consumed Elian existence... both before and after his transmigration.

He clenched his fists, the sharp sting of his nails digging into his palms grounding him in the present, but doing nothing to ease the storm of emotions swirling inside him.

He had tried to push it all away, to bury the pain deep within, but the memories were relentless, dragging him back to a time when he had been someone else, somewhere else, and yet still as lost and broken as he was now.

He remembered the night he had found Buddy, the scrappy little dog that had become his only friend, his only source of comfort in a world that had shown him nothing but cruelty.

Buddy had been just as lost and alone as Elian, rummaging through a refuse bin in a filthy alleyway, his tiny body trembling with hunger and fear.

Elian had seen something of himself in that little dog, a reflection of his own desperation, his own fight for survival in a world that had long since given up on him.

Elian had approached Buddy slowly, his heart aching at the sight of the trembling creature.

He had crouched down, extending a piece of bread he had scavenged earlier that day.

"Hey, little guy," he had whispered, his voice gentle, soothing. "I know what it's like to be hungry, to be alone. You don't have to be afraid."

Buddy had hesitated at first, his small, emaciated frame trembling with fear.

But Elian had been patient, waiting for the dog to make the first move.

And when Buddy finally crept forward, cautiously sniffing the bread before snatching it from Elian's hand, a small smile had tugged at Elian's lips, a rare and precious thing in those dark days.

From that moment on, Buddy had become his constant companion, following him wherever he went, curling up beside him at night to share whatever warmth they could find.

Elian had done everything he could to take care of Buddy, to keep him fed and safe.

He had stolen food for him, had scrounged together whatever scraps he could find to make sure Buddy didn't go hungry.

The little dog had given him a reason to keep going, a reason to fight through the endless days of hunger, cold, and fear.

But even that small bit of happiness had been ripped away from him.

Elian's breath hitched as the memory of that night, the night it had all gone wrong, played out in his mmind

He had stolen a burger from a street vendor, desperate to get something, anything, to eat for both him and Buddy.

If he knew, he'd end up in a situation that was worse than his former life, he would have slept hungry that night.

Elian squeezed his eyes shut, his body trembling as he fought against the overwhelming wave of grief and guilt that threatened to consume him.

"Buddy…" he whispered, the name escaping his lips like a broken prayer. He didn't know if Buddy had survived the accident, didn't know if the little dog had somehow managed to escape the same fate. But deep down, he feared the worst.

That was the cruelest twist of all, wasn't it? Instead of finding some kind of release from the suffering he had endured, instead of finally finding peace, he had been thrust into another life of pain and despair.

The irony wasn't lost on him. He had spent his entire life fighting to survive, fighting to protect the one thing that had given him any semblance of happiness. And in the end, he had lost it all.

Elian opened his eyes, staring down at his hands, the hands that belonged to his new body.

This body had been unwanted, unloved, treated as nothing more than a stain on the Duke's household. He had been bullied, tormented, and abused by his step-siblings, his stepmother, and even the servants. The boy had yearned for acceptance, for love, but had found nothing but cruelty and indifference.

And now, Elian... the new Elian, was the one paying for it. He had been thrown into this life, into this body, with no way out, no hope of escape. The gods had intended this as some twisted joke, surely. They had ripped him away from one life of suffering only to thrust him into another.

A bitter laugh escaped his lips, the sound harsh and grating in the silence of the cell. "How pathetic," he muttered, his voice thick with disdain. "So this is what transmigration feels like?"

It was nothing like the stories he had read as a child, where the protagonists woke up in powerful bodies, or in worlds filled with magic and adventure. In those tales, they often found themselves with new opportunities, new strengths, and an easier path to redemption.

But here he was, in the body of a boy who had been despised, beaten, and treated as less than dirt by his own family. And now, the same boy's family was branded as traitors, and he was the one paying for their sins.

Elian felt a wave of despair crash over him, threatening to drag him down into the depths of hopelessness.

He had lost everything in his previous life, his freedom, his dignity, and Buddy, the one thing that had made life worth living. And now, he was trapped in a life that was just as cruel, just as unforgiving, with no end in sight.

He clenched his fists again, his nails digging into his palms until they drew blood. The pain was sharp, but it was nothing compared to the agony that tore through his heart. He had fought so hard, had struggled against all odds, only to end up here, in this cold, dark cell, with no one to care if he lived or died.

Elian's breath came in ragged gasps as the weight of it all bore down on him, crushing him under its relentless pressure.

The memories of both his lives swirled in his mind, a chaotic storm of pain, loss, and despair.

Why was he given a second chance?

And for what? For this? To be trapped in a life that wasn't even his own, to suffer in a world that had no place for him?

Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision as he struggled to hold them back. He had cried so many times before, had shed so many tears for the life he had lost, for the little dog who had been his only friend. But this… this was different. This was a grief so deep, so all-consuming, that it threatened to tear him apart.

"I'm sorry, Buddy," he whispered, his voice breaking as the tears finally spilled over, running down his cheeks in hot, bitter streams. "I'm so sorry…"

His body shook with the force of his sobs, the pent-up emotions he had kept locked away.