Crawl of the Damned

Matteo instinctively tried to reach his wound, but the chains binding him made it impossible. He twisted in agony, his body convulsing like a snake after the brutal strike.

"Here, don't rest just yet."

Another lash landed.....this time on Alaric. But unlike Matteo, he didn't react. He simply took the pain, his body too exhausted to resist.

"Alaric, hey!" Sebastian called out, but his voice barely reached him. Alaric had nothing left, not even the strength to acknowledge him.

"Where do you think you're going?" A soldier struck Sebastian next, forcing him to his knees. He gasped, his eyes dulling, staring blankly at the point of impact.

The cheers of the crowd merged with the cracks of the whip, drowning out his thoughts.

"You bastards think you're special?" Another soldier sneered, bringing out a whip for Nitin and Livio.

"Wait, don't! He's not in a state to take this!" Nitin instinctively shielded Livio as the whip came down.

A pause.

Nitin hesitated—there was no pain. Slowly, he opened his eyes.

His remaining friends had covered him.

"You guys….... why—" His words stopped mid-sentence as he saw the soldiers, grinning, pulling out even more whips.

Their cloaks were shredded, revealing backs marked like those of tigers who had fought a pack of wolves. Their eyes had gone hollow. No screams echoed this time—just silence.

"Bring hot water!" One of the soldiers ordered.

The spectators wasted no time. Within moments, steaming water was splashed onto their torn flesh.

"AAAAAGH!"

The pain was unbearable. Their bodies writhed, their screams finally breaking the eerie silence.

They convulsed, crawling in agony. Their movements exposed Livio—who wasn't moving at all.

The soldiers' smirks widened. The crowd roared with excitement.

"Wait, STOP—" Tomasz's voice was lost in the chaos as the soldiers mercilessly lashed Livio.

But Livio didn't flinch.

Pain. The deafening cheers. Faint memories of the past.

Nothing reached him anymore. He simply knelt there, vacant, unresponsive.

"Alright, take them to the S-Level cell." The commanding officer's voice rang out.

Like cattle, they were dragged through the blood-soaked dirt, their backs still being struck as they moved.

Zelen, Marcel, and the others waited eagerly.

The cell was no ordinary prison. It was a shrine of suffering, buried deep within Valens' fortress—hidden away like a secret the world dared not acknowledge.

Its iron gates groaned, weighed down by the horrors they had witnessed. The walls were slick with blood, etched with the desperate claw marks of those who had come before. The stench of burned flesh hung thick in the air.

Cages swung from the ceiling, rusted bars clattering like the whispers of forgotten souls. A great wheel of spikes stood at the center, beside a boiling cauldron where flesh met fire. Chains dangled from the darkness, waiting to claim their next victim.

Here, death was not an escape—it was merely the beginning of a torment that only Valens could conceive.

"Haaah, I can't wait for them to arrive!" Zelen bounced on his feet, giddy with excitement.

"You're right! I had the pleasure of watching Eero's suffering—I'm not missing this!" Nitwit spun in circles like a child before a festival.

The soldiers who envied Livio and his group stood at the entrance, eager to witness their misery. Like backstabbers relishing their friends' downfall, they were here to enjoy the show.

The ground was stained red by the time Livio's group was dragged in.

They no longer had voices to scream.

No fight left in their limbs.

Their eyes…....devoid of light.

"Yes! More...… more…... MORE!" The soldiers chanted, intoxicated by the suffering before them.

Zelen, Marcel, James, and Nitwit howled like caged beasts finally unleashed.

Ethan and Oliver, restrained by the crowd, watched in horror. Their eyes were bloodshot, straining against the chains that held them back.

Livio, barely conscious, turned his head.

"Don't. You'll end up like us….. Please...…"

His own whispered words were meant for himself, yet they slipped out as he crawled forward under the relentless whips.

"NO! Where's your proof? What proof do you have that they're rapists?!" Ethan's voice cracked as he shouted at the soldiers.

The head soldier paused.

"Keep whipping them. Don't stop."

A sinister grin spread across his face.

"Oh, you're right. Why would we need proof? This is fun, isn't it?" He turned and strode toward Ethan and Oliver.

"You bastards are going to pay," Oliver growled, his red eyes locked onto them with fury.

"Ohhh, are you defending them?" Zelen grabbed a fistful of Ethan's hair, yanking his head back.

"Look, your friends are looking quite handsome." James cackled in Oliver's face.

"Maybe they just need some Elven chicks!" James sneered, igniting laughter from the soldiers restraining them.

"What the hell did you just say?"

Ethan's body tensed.

And in an instant, he broke free.

"JAMES, WATCH OUT!"

But before James could react, Ethan's fist crashed into Miles' face.

Blood sprayed from Miles' mouth as he staggered back from the impact.

"GET HIM!"

The soldiers swarmed Ethan, pinning him to the ground.

"Make him feel the pain too! If he's so hurt over them, let's see how much he can take!" James spat, his grin wide.

Laughter erupted as the crowd pounced on Ethan, kicking, beating—

Oliver suffered the same fate.

"Wait…... Stop…..." Nitin and the others tried to cry out, but their voices barely escaped.

Crawling toward their friends, they were met with boots pressing down on their mangled skin. The whips came down again.

Blood soaked into the earth as the sun disappeared, leaving only the stench of suffering in its wake.

The Deepest Cell

The deepest part of the prison was reserved for true suffering.

Livio's friends were shackled to different walls, their broken bodies barely holding on.

At the center—Eero hung in chains.

His body was a ruined canvas of agony. Scratches covered his skin. The whip marks were fresh, layered over countless older wounds.

His fingernails were missing.

Beneath him, the ground was littered with broken nails and stained with blood…... and urine.

His head lolled forward, his breath barely audible.

A puppet, broken beyond repair.

Deep within the woods, four figures stood before an ancient tree, cloaked in black.

The tree trembled.

From its branches, black birds with human heads emerged, swarming the sky, blocking out the moonlight.

The tree's roots descended.

Each taproot bore a human head, lifeless—until they weren't.

"You have fulfilled your promise," the heads spoke in unison. "Ahh…... the sweet taste of betrayal."

Laughter rippled through the grotesque faces.

"Thank you...… for keeping us safe," one of the cloaked figures murmured.

"It was part of the pact."

Without warning, roots erupted from the ground, ensnaring the four figures.

The night swallowed them whole.

And as the moonlight broke through the canopy once more—

The figures were gone.

The tree stood silent.

Normal.

As if nothing had ever happened.