The massacre -3

Ian stepped into the palace, his eyes widening in horror. The once-majestic halls now lay in ruins, the floors slick with blood and littered with the corpses of soldiers, men, women, and children. The air reeked of death, the stench so overwhelming that Ian's stomach churned.

Every citizen of the empire, it seemed, had been dragged into the palace and slaughtered. Ian's mind recoiled at the thought, his heart heavy with grief. What had they done to deserve this? He thought to himself, his voice barely above a whisper.

As he ventured deeper into the palace, Ian's footsteps echoed off the walls. He passed through the entrance, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of life. But there was nothing. Only silence, and the oppressive weight of death.

Suddenly, Ian heard the sound of footsteps, heavy and deliberate. Soldiers, clad in armor, emerged from the shadows. Ian's heart skipped a beat as he realized he was not alone.

He quickly hid behind a nearby pillar, holding his breath as the soldiers approached. Their eyes scanned the area, but they didn't seem to have noticed him.

One of the soldiers, a burly man with a cruel grin, spoke up. "I thought we cleared this area already," he said, his voice dripping with malice.

Another soldier, a lean man with a scar above his eyebrow, shook his head. "We did, but we need to make sure. The Emperor wants no survivors."

Ian's eyes widened as he listened to the conversation. He knew that he had to be careful, that one misstep could mean capture or death.

The soldiers moved on, their footsteps echoing through the hallway. Ian let out a sigh of relief as they disappeared from view.

He knew that he couldn't stay hidden forever. He had to keep moving, to find a way out of the palace and into the safety of the unknown.

With a deep breath, Ian stepped out from behind the pillar, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of danger. The coast was clear, for now.

He moved on, his footsteps quiet on the bloody floor. He had to be careful, had to stay one step ahead of the soldiers.

But as he turned a corner, Ian caught sight of something that made his blood run cold. A group of soldiers, armed to the teeth, stood guarding a door.

And on the door, in bold letters, was written a single word: "Prisoners".

Ian's eyes were fixed on the word "Prisoners" scrawled on the door. His mind racing with thoughts of what could be happening inside, he carefully made his way to the small hole in the door.

He peered through the hole, his eyes adjusting to the dim light within. The room was small, with stone walls and a cold, damp floor. The air was thick with the stench of sweat, blood, and despair.

Men and women, their faces gaunt and their eyes sunken, huddled together in the center of the room. They were surrounded by three soldiers, their faces twisted with cruelty.

The first soldier, a bulky man with trimmed hair, spoke up. His voice was like a slap in the face, cold and unforgiving. "Huh, they thought they could defeat us? What fools! Now, go and be good little slaves."

He addressed an old man, who looked up at him with a mixture of fear and defiance. The old man's eyes flashed with a spark of resistance, but it was quickly extinguished by the soldier's cruel gaze.

The second soldier, a man in his mid-40s with long hair, spoke up. His voice was laced with a hint of curiosity, but it was quickly overridden by his cruel nature. "What are we going to do about the old people? They're not exactly... useful."

The room fell silent, the only sound the heavy breathing of the soldiers. The prisoners exchanged nervous glances, their eyes filled with fear.

The third soldier, a boy no more than 20 years old, replied with a sneer. His voice was cold, calculating, and devoid of any empathy. "What else?" he said, his eyes scanning the room with a mixture of disdain and boredom. "They will die."

The words hung in the air like a death sentence, and Ian felt a chill run down his spine. He knew that he had to get out of there, to escape the horror that was unfolding before his eyes. But as he turned to leave, he heard the sound of footsteps, heavy and deliberate, coming from the other side of the door.

Ian held his breath as he hid behind the pillar, watching as the soldiers opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. Their voices were loud and boisterous, a stark contrast to the somber atmosphere of the palace.

"It's time to change shifts," one of the soldiers announced, his voice dripping with excitement. "Dinner is ready."

The boy in his 20s, Ron, replied with a grin. "Alright, it's finally time to eat. I'm starving."

The soldiers chuckled and joked as they made their way down the hallway. Ian's eyes narrowed as he listened to their conversation.

"So, what's on the menu?" Ron asked, his voice full of anticipation.

The tall man, whose name Ian hadn't caught, replied with a smirk. "Go find out for yourself, Ron."

Ron chuckled and playfully punched the tall man's arm. "Okay, let's go, boys."

The bulky man, who seemed to be the leader of the group, nodded. "Alright, let's move. Ron, hurry up."

Ron grinned and fell into step beside the bulky man. "Let's go, I'm starving."

As the soldiers disappeared around the corner, Ian let out a sigh of relief. He knew that he had to keep moving, to find a way out of the palace and into the safety of the unknown.

But for now, he took a moment to catch his breath and gather his thoughts. He knew that he couldn't stay hidden forever, but for now, it was the best option he had.

After waiting for almost two hours, Ian heard the sound of the soldiers stepping outside the room. The soldiers guarding the room left, talking while they walked.

"Hey, don't you have anything to light this cigar? What a mess," one of them said. "Okay, come with me."

Saying this, they left the room. After they departed, Ian entered the room.

"Hey, is that Prince Ian?" a girl in her late 20s asked.

"Yes, it's him," her mother replied, perhaps.

Ian signaled them to stop talking. When he reached the prisoners, he said, "I'll free you guys somehow."

But the girl, Maya, replied, "No, you don't have to. Please, you just run. Everyone died. If we lose you, how can we face the king and queen?"

"You don't have to worry about me," Ian said to Maya. "I'll escape with you."

Now, let me find the key, Ian thought. After searching the walls, he found the keys hanging on an iron bar. Recovering the key, he then opened all the doors of the prison.

He started evacuating the prisoners through the back door of the palace. After an hour or so, Ian heard the footsteps of the soldiers.

"Hey, David, open the door. It's time to change shifts," a voice said.

After hearing this, ian started to evacuate the prisoners as fast as he could

The ma heard sounds of footsteps coming from the room

"Hey, who's inside?" the man said in a hurry.

Ian started to panic when the door burst open. Then a man entered and with an amused look in his face he said, "Well, well, what do we have here?"