Ardian Lasota is a 16 year old boy that was dealt a loosing hand by the devil. He is a boy that survives but does not live. Silence drowns him in the chaos. Love was a foreign concept until now. With his family finding him after 14 years , together...
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The smell of iron, mold and bodily fluids of every kind suffocated the tiny cell. The stench incorporated into the every stone brick. Sunlight never touched the nauseating room or the person inside. Unconscious to where he was and blissfully oblivious to his fate. But sadly he was about to awaken from his fantasy.
The first thing his hazy consciousness became aware of was the cold. It was in his very bones, muscles tightly rung. Before he could question the cold further, the pain and soreness struck him next. As his blurry eyes cleared, his gaze crawled up his arms to find them chained and dangling from the moss and blood covered ceiling. His gaze snapped to his legs to find them in the same starfish position. Panic coursed through him muddling his thoughts. He whipped his head left and right, hyperventilating at his dark surroundings. All he knew was that he was once in his house but now he was stripped of his dignity and starfished in the unknown.
Suddenly, even in his panicked stated he felt it. Eyes. It sucked the air out the room making it hold its breath. He was its prey and he knew it. He did not know how long it was staring. Hours? Days? Weeks? Time slipped away without the sun to mark it. But the eyes did not move once. It waited. On what he did not know, but he instinctively thought that once the eyes moved he would be eaten by its owner. The eyes kept him wound tight. Every clank of metal, every drop of water, every sound made him flinch like someone struck him. Each second that ticked by increased his fear to new heights. He never felt this fear before. He was always the one to inflict it, hell he enjoyed it, but now, now he was the one on the chopping block, and this would be a whole new version of hell. Just when his adrenaline began to drop it spiked to dangerous levels.
It multiplied. It was in every corner, every crevice. Protected by the shadows, the stare circled him, no long just infront. He knew then, his death was near, but oh how wrong he was. His death was coming but they were going to make it slow. They were going to make him feel all the pain he inflicted. They were going to serve their own version of justice in the most painful way possible.
" Это для моего котенка"
(This is for my котёнок)
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Find out what happens on the next chapter of Blood Tears!
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