Chapter II - Heartbeat

Dearest observer,

The heart-it beats as it fears, a rhythm that tells no lies. With every Ba-dum, it betrays courage and whispers truths we dare not voice aloud.

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It took precisely two hours-a hundred and twenty minutes passed-in about seven thousand and two hundred seconds of pure, uninterrupted torment.

*Ba-dum* *Ba-dum*

That relentless thumping echoed through the chamber, steady and unyielding. The suspended man's body finally succumbed to the blood loss, his head slumping forward in a faint.

*Ba-dum* *Ba-dum*

A few minutes ticked by since the hooded man left the room, disappearing into the shadows after unleashing his ruthless torture.

*Ba-dum*

The air was heavy with the stench of blood, sweat, and excretory filth. Pieces of flesh and hair clung to the rusty chains, while the bloody floor seemed to bear the image of a wicked, bloody nightmare.

*Ba-dum*

The suspended prisoner stirred, his eyes fluttering open to reveal a blurry, unfocused world.

*Ba-dum*

He struggled to keep them open, his gaze drifting toward the stumps that were once his legs.

'Tis bright in here,' he thought, his mind foggy.

*Ba-dum*

A second realization hit him like a cold wave. 'Wait... why can't I feel me legs? Oh, that's right... He cut 'em off, the fuckin' bastard!'

*Ba-dum*

As his vision slowly regained clarity, the suspended man took in his surroundings.

*Ba-dum*

The room, once a dim, foreboding space, was now illuminated by the soft glow of magically floating orbs.

*Ba-dum*

The iron chamber, with its cold, unforgiving walls, floors, and ceiling, seemed to close in around him.

*Ba-dum*

The rusty chains, the blood-stained floor, and the putrid smell all blended together to create a sense of claustrophobic dread.

*Ba-dum*

The suspended Irishman's gaze wandered, his thoughts consumed by the agony and the grotesque reality of his situation.

*Ba-dum*

Suddenly, his nose wrinkled in distaste. 'Ugh... Jayzus, that stench!' he thought. 'I didn't notice it before, but 'tis like the very stench o' death itself-is that all from me!? Couldn't be, could it, ye great gowl!?'

*Ba-dum*

The air reeked of rust and misery, heavy enough to choke on.

*Ba-dum* *Ba-dum*

Chains dangled from the ceiling like bony fingers, twisted and knotted in a maddening tangle. In the middle of it all was the prisoner, bound up tight in chains that bit into his battered skin.

'Hold on,' he thought suddenly, his tired eyes narrowing at the thorny links holding him up. 'These chains... these are new.'

*Ba-dum*

These weren't the same ones from before. No, these ones had bloody thorns, like rose stems from hell, and they were moving-pulsing, almost like they were alive.

'Great Jaysus,' he muttered in his head, the Irish tone strong even in thought. 'Chains shouldn't be beatin' like a bloody heart, should they? But that's prob'ly the least weird thing in this cursed place.'

*Ba-dum*

He dragged his gaze around the room, his stomach twisting at the sight. The iron walls glowed faintly red, stained with blood and years of torment. Chains hung from every surface, like some sickly spider web. Floating orbs of light hovered in the air, casting an eerie glow, and there-lined up like trophies-were glowing vials in all colours, their strange light flickering faintly.

'Now what in all the hells are those?' he thought, his unease growing with every second.

*Ba-dum* *Ba-dum* *Ba-dum*

"You know," he muttered, his Irish lilt still noticeable, "I've heard tales of magic before, but I never thought I'd live to see it up close."

*Ba-dum*

"That man..." His voice dropped to a thoughtful whisper. "Could he be a mage? Maybe one of those dark mages the stories go on about."

*Ba-dum*

He squinted through the dim light. "The orphan lads used to talk about a time one mage caused all kinds of wicked trouble. That'd explain some of this madness, wouldn't it?"

The suspended man's gaze drifted toward the dark hallway at the far end of the chamber, its passage hewn from rough, black stone.

*Ba-dum*

The air wafting from the hallway carried the damp scent of earth and vegetation, mingled with the faint whisper of flowing water.

*Ba-dum*

"Could I maybe call fer help? No way..." he muttered under his breath. "That bastard would just come back an' probably slit me tongue, so he would!" His Irish brogue thickened with each desperate word.

*Ba-dum* *Ba-dum*

He let out a shaky sigh, his voice heavy with resignation. "I'm... I'm goin' to die here, aren't I?"

*Ba-dum* *Ba-dum* *Ba-dum*

Before the despair could swallow him whole, a voice echoed through the chamber.

"Die? Hahaha, not on my watch."

The hooded man emerged from the shadows, his demeanour unsettlingly cheerful. He stepped into the dim light, his towering presence no less menacing. Yet this time, his blood-stained gloves held something peculiar-a small glass vial glowing with a golden hue.

*Ba-dum*

The suspended man's eyes narrowed at the vial. "What's that glowy thing in yer hand?"

The hooded man chuckled, lifting the vial with a slow, deliberate motion. "Oh, this?" His tone was almost playful. "It's a rare little treasure I acquired just for you."

*Ba-dum*

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper that sent shivers through the prisoner's spine. "You'll love it. It'll make all your pain go away... and then some."

*Ba-dum* *Ba-dum* *Ba-dum*

The hooded man placed the glowing vial among other coloured vials on the side table, each one casting an eerie glow.

"I-I see..." the suspended man stammered, his voice trembling with unease.

The hooded man gestured toward his chest. "By the way, I'm impressed you're not bothered by the loud thumping sound."

The suspended man blinked. "Ye mean the new chains? Ah've gotten used to 'em."

"New chains?" The hooded man tilted his head. "What are you on about?"

"The chains ye've got me hangin' from," the man replied, equally perplexed.

The hooded man placed a gloved hand on his forehead. "Mate, you've got it all wrong. The thumping isn't coming from the chains."

The suspended man squinted. "What? If it ain't the chains, then what in all that's holy is it? Can't ye see they're thumpin' like a pagan drum, suckin' the blood right outta me veins!"

A faint thumping sound echoed through the chamber, almost imperceptible but synchronized with the suspended man's heartbeat.

*Ba-dum*

The hooded man scratched his head in bewilderment. "What in the bloody hell are you ranting on about!?" he exclaimed in a worried tone.

*Ba-dum* *Ba-dum*

The sound grew slightly louder, its rhythm steady and ominous, as the suspended man's frustration intensified.

At this point, the hooded man's mind was filled with thoughts of concern for the suspended man. 'He isn't losing it, is he? Also, is it just me, or is he laying the Irish accents a bit too thick? He clearly wasn't before... Or was he, the poor bastard?'

*Ba-dum* *Ba-dum* *Ba-dum*

The sound increased in volume, its beat synchronizing with the suspended man's ragged breathing as his anxiety peaked.

The hooded man approached the prisoner, looked into his bloody purple pupils, and asked, "Don't tell me you've already begun to hallucinate from the little sessions we've shared, have you? Did I already break you?"

*Ba-dum* *Ba-dum*

The thumping grew louder still, vibrating through the chamber as the suspended man's desperation grew.

"What are ye tryin' to say, ye bastard?" The suspended man demanded with a perturbed expression.

*Ba-dum*

"Fair play, I've not messed with your chains, mate. They're just old, rusty ones."

*Ba-dum* *Ba-dum*

The sound reached a deafening crescendo, its vibrations palpable in the air as the suspended man's emotions boiled over.

"So, no magical blood-sucking chains?"

The hooded man assured him, "No magical blood-sucking chains of any kind in this or any reality, mate." He even pointed out an experience from his past. "There are vines with thorns that do drain mages of mana, though... Brr... That was a horrible experience."

*Ba-dum* *Ba-dum*

The suspended man's anger and fear fueled the sound, making it almost unbearable. "Wait a minute, will ye? If the chains ain't makin' those really loud thumpin' sounds, then what is?"

*Ba-dum*

The hooded man tilted his head once more in confusion, then pointed at the suspended man's chest, saying, "You've not exactly taken a good look at yourself, have you?"

*Ba-dum*

The confused prisoner tilted his head, imitating the hooded man's gesture, then slowly drifted downwards in dread. His head dropped, chin sinking towards his bloody sternum, and his purple pupils widened in horror.

A faint Ba-dum echoed through the chamber, growing louder with each beat.

The sight that greeted him was a grotesque parody of anatomy-his chest torn open with precision, the glistening ribs exposed, and beneath them, his heart pulsing in plain view.

*Ba-dum*

At first, the suspended man was too horrified to think. But as the relentless thumping continued, his terror gave way to confusion. The rhythm-it wasn't random.

*Ba-dum* *Ba-dum* *Ba-dum-Ba-dum...* *Ba-dum*

His mind latched onto the pattern, desperate for some explanation. Short bursts, longer intervals-it almost felt deliberate.

'What in God's name...' he thought, panic sharpening his senses. 'Is me own heart... talkin' to me?'

*Ba-dum* *Ba-dum-Ba-dum* *Ba-dum-Ba-dum-Ba-dum*

The realisation hit him like a punch to the gut. It wasn't just his imagination. The beating formed a message.

The suspended man's lips trembled, his voice barely audible. "Pride..."

The hooded man turned sharply, his focus now fixed on the beating heart. His head tilted as if straining to hear.

*Ba-dum* *Ba-dum...* *Ba-dum*

The suspended man swallowed hard, his bloodied pupils widening in horror. "Pride... will..."

The heart thumped louder, its erratic rhythm booming like thunder through the iron chamber.

"Return."

The word fell from his lips like a curse, and for a fleeting moment, the room felt colder.

The hooded man's lips curled into an unsettling grin. "Well now," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Ain't that somethin'? Your heart's got more guts than the rest of you."

"W-What... is this?" the suspended man's voice cracked, his thick Irish brogue softening under the strain of his terror.

*Ba-dum* *Ba-dum*

The hooded man tilted his head slightly, his voice carrying a calm menace. "It's your heart, mate. Looks like it's got a bit more fight in it than you do."

The suspended man's breathing quickened, his wide eyes locked on the gruesome display of his own chest. "How... how'm I still alive?" he stammered.

*Ba-dum*

The hooded man leaned closer, his voice dipping to a whisper that sent chills skittering down his victim's spine. "Alive? Oh, you can thank me for that. Those elixirs weren't just for show. I can't have you dying on me before we've had our fun now, can I?"

The suspended man's eyes flicked to the table of glowing vials, his dread deepening as realisation clawed its way into his mind.

The hooded man turned to the vials, a sinister excitement gleaming in his shadowed features. He muttered to himself as he sorted through them before holding one aloft - its golden contents swirling with an ominous light. "Ah, there it is! With this, you'll be as good as immortal."

He spun back toward his victim, his steps deliberate. For the briefest moment, the dim light revealed a sliver of his face - a lip ring catching the glow, a twisted grin spreading like a crack in porcelain.

"And that's when the real fun begins."

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