The Dare - Mattheo Riddle

17. Rescue you

Everything went black.

When I woke up, disoriented and groggy, my surroundings slowly came into focus.

I was in a dungeon—or at least it looked like one. The walls were cold, damp cement, and the air was thick with the musty scent of decay.

The only furnishings were a narrow, rusted bed frame with a thin, filthy mattress, and a toilet in the corner, stained and unsanitary. My breath quickened as the reality of my situation sank in.

*Where am I? Why is this happening?*

Panic began to bubble within me, hot and suffocating.

I scrambled off the bed, my bare feet slapping against the cold cement floor as I rushed to the heavy, iron door.

My hands pounded against it, desperate, frantic.

"Let me out! Please, let me out!" My voice cracked with desperation, my pleas echoing off the unforgiving walls.

But there was no response, only the sound of my own ragged breathing filling the silence.

And then, suddenly, the door creaked open. I stumbled back, my heart racing, as a figure stepped into the dim light. They were cloaked in a dark robe, a mask obscuring their face—a Death Eater.

I knew immediately that whoever they were, they were not here to help me.

"Please," I whispered, my voice trembling as I looked up at them, my body trembling in fear.

"SHUT UP!" The voice that answered was distorted, mechanical, as if altered by some device.

The sound was unnerving, a hollow, emotionless tone that sent chills down my spine.

"What the hell is this?" I muttered, more to myself than to the figure looming over me.

"Where's the ball?" the masked figure demanded, their tone menacing.

Ball? What ball?

My mind raced, trying to make sense of their question, but I couldn't.

Panic set in deeper, and I opened my mouth to speak, to ask what they meant, but no words came out.

It was as if my voice had been stolen from me.

"Answer me!" The figure's patience snapped as they grabbed me by the front of my shirt, lifting me off the ground with terrifying ease before slamming me against the cold, unforgiving wall.

The impact sent a shockwave of pain through my body, making me gasp as I felt the breath forced from my lungs.

"I—I don't know what you're talking about!" I stammered, my voice barely more than a whisper as fear constricted my throat.

I knew it was useless to plead, but the words spilled out anyway, driven by sheer terror.

The Death Eater's grip tightened before they threw me to the ground.

I barely had time to brace myself before the familiar, dreaded words were spoken.

"CRUCIO!"

Agony unlike anything I had ever experienced tore through my body.

It felt as though my nerves were being set on fire, every inch of me consumed by searing, unbearable pain.

I screamed, the sound raw and broken, my body convulsing uncontrollably as I curled into a ball, fists clenched so tightly my nails bit into my palms.

I gasped for air, every breath a struggle as the pain continued to course through me.

I had known the Cruciatus Curse was bad, but nothing could have prepared me for this. It was torture in its purest form, designed to break both body and mind.