Eternal flame

Chapter 3

The hours dragged on, each one feeling like an eternity. My stomach twisted in hunger, and I realized just how long it had been since I’d last eaten. The gnawing emptiness in my belly added to the exhaustion and frustration that clung to me like a heavy fog. Every sensation felt amplified—the cold stone underfoot, the dampness in the air, the weight of the anti-magic necklace pressing against my chest.

I leaned back against the wall, closing my eyes for a moment, trying to block out the hunger, the fatigue, and the constant noise of the arena. My mind wandered back to simpler times, moments when I wasn’t trapped in this twisted nightmare of survival and spectacle. But each time I tried to relax, I was pulled back into the harsh reality of my situation.

With each passing moment, the hunger grew worse. It wasn’t just the need for food—it was a reminder of how much control these captors had over me. They decided when I ate, when I fought, when I lived or died. And despite the anger that surged through me, I had no choice but to wait for whatever came next.

I couldn’t afford to let my hunger weaken me. If I was going to survive, I needed to stay sharp, even in these moments of quiet desperation.

Time seemed to lose meaning, and I could only hope that food—or some opportunity—would arrive soon.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps outside the door, faint but unmistakable. I shot up from my spot, adrenaline momentarily masking the hunger pains. "HEY!" I shouted, my voice cracking slightly from disuse and desperation. "You've gotta give me food!"

I waited for a response, for anything that showed they acknowledged me, but all I got was silence. Anger surged through me, frustration boiling over. "I know you can hear me, you son of a bitch!" I screamed, slamming my fist against the door. The impact sent a sharp jolt of pain up my arm, but I didn’t care.

Silence.

My breaths came out ragged, my body trembling from a mix of exhaustion and fury. I could feel the hopelessness creeping in again, trying to drag me under, but I clenched my fists, refusing to let it win. They were watching. They were always watching, waiting for me to break. But I wasn’t going to give them that satisfaction—not yet.

The anger within me boiled over, consuming every ounce of my remaining energy. It was as though something inside snapped, a fire that had been smoldering finally ignited into a blaze. I felt a surge of strength course through my veins, and in that moment, the chains that had held me for so long felt less like restraints and more like fragile bindings.

With a roar that echoed through the stone walls, I strained against the chains. My muscles screamed in protest, but I kept pushing, kept pulling, fueled by sheer willpower and fury. And then—finally—they gave way. The shackles snapped with a sharp metallic sound, falling to the ground with a clatter.

I staggered to my feet, the anti-magic necklace still weighing heavily around my neck, but the chains were no longer holding me back. I was free, if only partially. My heart raced as I stumbled forward, determination driving me toward the door.

Reaching it, I slammed my fists against the wood, anger still coursing through me. “I’m not done yet!” I growled. I twisted the handle and to my surprise, the door creaked open.

My breath caught in my throat as I stepped cautiously over the threshold, my senses on high alert. This could be a trap—but for the first time in what felt like an eternity, I was no longer confined.

Now, it was time to find out what lay beyond these walls—and how I could finally regain control.

The cold air hit me like a shock as I stepped beyond the door. The dimly lit corridor stretched out before me, an oppressive silence hanging in the air. I took a deep breath, my muscles tense, ready for whatever awaited me. Every step was cautious, each sound carefully evaluated.