In the dimly lit and foreboding
"Prison of Hell" Captain Ivan's whispered inquiry hung heavy in the air, shrouded in an eerie silence. The guard, visibly shaken, wiped the beads of sweat from his brow and cast a wary gaze at the imposing iron door before him.

"No response, sir!" the guard replied, his voice quivering yet brimming with an unsettling confidence.

Ivan's lips curled into a sinister sneer as he mused, "Really? I had whipped that thing for several hours, and yet, not even a sound of pain." Ivan had been the unwavering guardian of this grim prison for the past 11 long and harrowing years.

Known to outsiders as the Prison of Hell, this desolate place lay hidden in the treacherous heart of the Limerence Empire's densest forest, a realm infested with savage beasts led by their menacing Beast King. Most believed it to be where the vilest of criminals spent their wretched lives, but reality held a far more sinister secret.

Countless guards, soldiers, and powerful enchantments encircled the prison. Even a member of the esteemed royal guard had been assigned here for the sole duty of guarding one enigmatic 'person' - if one could even call it that.

"What about its wounds? I'm quite certain they've all healed by now," Ivan mocked, his voice dripping with malevolence.

"Yes, sir, it has healed on its own," the guard stammered, a newcomer to this abyss of despair. Young and hot-blooded, he had naively expected an easy assignment, but this 'person' had forever altered his perspective. The guard had witnessed deep wounds miraculously sealing themselves, a testament to the otherworldly powers contained within.

Standing guard at the iron door was an incessant ordeal for the young sentry. An eerie sensation crept up his spine, as though a relentless predator fixated its gaze upon helpless prey. He feared that whatever resided within would suddenly break free, and he would be the first to fall. His tension was ceaseless, except in the presence of Captain Ivan, where he dared to lower his guard.

"It's been six months. Summon the others, chain it up, and return it to its cell," Ivan commanded before departing.

Within the enigmatic depths of that sinister cell, a lone figure remained, bound in heavy chains. Iron links clung tightly to wrists, ankles, waist, and neck, all forcing the figure to kneel. Long, unkempt raven hair obscured its face.

As the heavy iron doors creaked open, a throng of guards, heavily armed and clad in armor, filed into the chamber. Their weapons were trained on the figure, none daring to meet its chilling, abyssal gaze.

The guard tasked with opening the cell swallowed hard. Seal marks covered the figure's body, bearing testimony to the formidable wards placed upon it to contain unimaginable power.

"Take it back to its cell," ordered the commanding voice.

The guards advanced cautiously, their hearts heavy with trepidation, avoiding eye contact with the enigmatic prisoner who had forever haunted their nightmares.

The male, nameless and tormented, wrestled with a cacophony of malevolent thoughts in the pitch-black abyss of his captivity. His powers lay sealed, rendering escape impossible, even as he longed for the release of death.

Though his body was battered and wounded, his powers ensured his ceaseless healing, leaving him trapped in an endless cycle of torment. The desire for death wrestled with his desire to live, both seemingly unattainable.

"Why not kill them?" echoed a sinister voice within him. "They all deserve to die. Burn it all."

"Shut up," he ordered, though it was a futile struggle. He recognized that voice, an insidious reflection of his own dark thoughts.

Fatigue weighed heavily upon him, and he surrendered to a restless slumber, still bound by chains.

But his respite was short-lived, interrupted by the ominous approach of familiar footsteps.

"Open the door," Ivan's voice resonated through the darkness.

The harsh sound of heavy boots echoed, and the male lead's eyes flickered open. Ivan stood before him, his smile dripping with sadistic glee. "Tired?" he taunted, yet the chained figure remained silent, refusing to acknowledge his tormentor.

Ivan resorted to brutality, delivering a punishing kick to the figure's stomach, forcing him against the unforgiving wall. "Still not making a sound, I see," Ivan sneered. "Do you believe anyone will come to save you? No one here wishes you anything but death."

As Ivan departed, the male's inner turmoil persisted, torn between his desire for salvation and the consuming darkness within.

There existed a tale, whispered through the annals of time: Once, a demon had yearned for freedom, pledging unimaginable wealth and power in exchange for rescue. Yet, as centuries passed, bitterness consumed the demon, and it vowed to claim the lives of any who dared to free it.

I will upload another chapter after this.

I took a reference from another novel for that short story (I don't remember which story) I think it was probably a Chinese novel.
What are your thoughts about this story? Please share...
Thank you!

-Snow