This chapter contains mention of graphic violence, Please skip to Lily's POV for your own sanity, if you are not comfortable reading creepy, violence stuffs. Thank you.
Four years back
Deep beneath the city's streets, a labyrinthine network of damp, crumbling tunnels converged into a singularly foreboding chamber. The air is heavy with the stench of decay and corruption, as if the very walls are infected with the rot of forgotten souls.
His domain, hidden from prying eyes, lay shrouded in perpetual twilight. Flickering fluorescent tubes cast an unnatural glow, casting long shadows that seems to writhe like living darkness.
The cell itself is a masterclass in psychological torment. Cold, grey concrete swallows all warmth, while rusty iron bars seem to grasp like skeletal fingers. A single, flickering light bulb hangs from the ceiling, casting an unsteady pulse that mirrored the racing heart of its occupants.
Every sound is amplified: the creaking of ancient pipes, the scurrying of unseen vermin, and the soft, deliberate breathing of His henchmen, stationed like sentinels of despair.
In this subterranean hellhole, hope itself seemed to suffocate, crushes beneath the weight of Marcus's unyielding grip. Those who enters rarely escaped unscathed, their minds forever scarred by the oppressive atmosphere of dread that clung to every stone, every shadow.
And there he sits, enthroned in a leather chair, like a Satan, Marcus, before a figure knelt in abject subjugation. Chains bound the man's wrists and ankles, their rusty links etched against the dimly lit concrete floor like a gruesome artwork.
The captive's head hangs in defeat, his eyes cast downward as if weighed down by the crushing burden of his own despair. His dark hair is matted and unkempt, framing a face etched with exhaustion and fear.
A faint tremble courses through his limbs, betraying the desperation that still flickered within. His shoulders sag beneath the oppressive weight of Marcus's gaze, as if the very air is thick with malevolent intent.
The silence between them is oppressive, punctuated only by the soft clinking of chains and the heavy, measured breathing of Marcus's henchmen, stationed like statues of retribution against the walls.
Marcus's eyes, cold and calculating, scrutinizes his captive with an unyielding intensity, as if dissecting the very soul before him.
" Victor..." He starts in a low menacing tone, leaning forward, elbows on knees, "You thought you could betray me and live?"His eyes blaze with fury, hands clenched.
Marcus's voice is raised, "You're going to beg for mercy or death". His lips curve in a cold and creepy smile, making the captive shiver.
He snaps his fingers, his men move to restrain Victor. "Tell me, Victor... how did you think this would end?" He leans back in his chair and pulls out a cigar, lighting it with deliberate slowness. "Don't worry, there will be no unnecessary violence, just enough to keep up the fun you know"
Victor trembles, pleading. His voice comes out more like a sniffle, as his mouth is gagged.
Marcus orders, devoid of emotion, "Take him apart" inhaling smoke. Men move in, towards Victor. Marcus leans forward "Start with the fingers, one by one". One of the men's rough hands grasp Victor's face, the gag being pulled from his mouth. As the gag is yanked free, Victor doesn't speak, despite the fear in his eyes. He just breaths, the silence a welcome respite from the suffocating gag.
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Until I breathe | 18+
General FictionWhat will happen when Darkness is struck by Lightning? 🔪NOT THE YOUR TYPICAL MAFIA STORY (READ PROLOGUE FIRST AND DECIDE LATER) ******************* Rated T for too tempting Contains mature content ❤🔥