Buzzing. There was a buzzing noise… and a sharp, splitting pain in my head.
I opened my eyes slowly. My vision was blurry, unfocused. My body felt unbearably heavy, like something was pinning me down. The headache was vicious—like someone had taken an axe to my skull.
A strong, foul smell hit my nose. It was thick and nauseating, burning its way into my throat. I struggled to lift my head from the cold, hard floor beneath me.
Where am I?
I tried to scan the room, but everything was drenched in darkness. I couldn't make out a single shape clearly. My thoughts were foggy. My body refused to respond. All I wanted was to sleep again… to escape this place.
I closed my eyes, slipping back into the blackness.
______
I woke up again.
I didn't know how much time had passed—minutes, hours, days? I had completely lost any sense of time.
The headache had eased a little. My limbs were still heavy, but I could move them now. I lifted my head again, this time more steadily. A faint beam of light filtered in through a small window near the ceiling.
My vision sharpened.
And suddenly—I was wide awake.
This wasn't my room. This wasn't anywhere I recognized.
Where the hell was I?
How did I get here?
Panic hit me like a wave. My heart slammed in my chest. I looked around, breathing hard.
The room was old, broken down, barely holding together. The walls were cracked, the air thick with rot. Wooden crates were stacked all around me, and that same stench lingered—stronger now.
I was lying in one corner, close to a damp wall. In the opposite corner… something was there.
Something that didn't look like a crate.
My stomach clenched.
Was I kidnapped?
Alarms rang in my mind. I rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling—at the tiny, unreachable window above.
There was no way to climb up. My body was too weak.
I felt the tears building in my eyes.
Was this the work of one of my father's enemies? Was he looking for me right now?
I tried to convince myself he was… but deep down, a voice whispered
' You're lying to yourself '
My stomach twisted in hunger, my throat dry like sand. But even if I wanted food, the smell in the room crushed any appetite. I scanned the space again, desperate for water. Nothing. Just crates. A locked iron door.
And… that thing in the corner.
I stared at it.
There's No other choice.
I gritted my teeth and began crawling toward it, dragging my aching body inch by inch.
Then—pain.
A sharp stab in my palm. I had pressed down on broken glass. I bit my tongue to stop myself from crying out, then pulled the shard out with trembling fingers and flung it aside.
Blood oozed from the wound, trailing behind me as I pushed forward.
The closer I got to the shape, the stronger the smell became. Overwhelming. Choking.
My hand slid into something thick and wet.
I froze.
It was warm. Sticky. I didn't want to believe it. But the smell confirmed it instantly.
Blood.
I jerked backward instinctively, my breath catching in my throat. I looked down. The floor was stained, soaked in red.
I cursed under my breath, forcing myself to keep going.
I focused what little mana I had into my eyes. A jolt ran through my optic nerves—painful, but manageable.
Suddenly… everything became clear.
And I felt my stomach drop.
There, in the corner, was a body.
What was left of one, anyway.
It was a man—sitting slumped against the wall.
His skin was bluish, pale, drained of all color.
His eyes were wide open—frozen.
Staring right at me.
Lifeless, yet filled with horror.
His mouth hung open, a silent scream still lingering. Blood had dripped from the corners of his lips.
But worse…
his stomach.
It was torn open.
Ripped apart as if something had clawed into him, dug out everything inside, and left nothing but a gaping, blood-soaked cavity.
Blood had pooled around him, spreading across the floor. It soaked the wood, crawled under the crates, painted everything in a sickening red.
This couldn't be real.
I shook, gagging as bile rose up my throat.
I turned away, vomiting whatever remained in my stomach.
My arms gave out. I collapsed against the floor, gasping, trembling.
The room spun. The walls closed in.
Even the silence felt loud. My breath, my heartbeat, the throb in my wounded hand—all of it deafening.
I looked again.
His eyes were still fixed on me.
And in that moment…
I remembered everything.