CALEB
The dungeon air was thick, a heady mix of damp stone, rusted metal, and blood. Aiden’s blood. It clung to the walls, and the ceiling, seeping into every crack as though the room itself fed on it. He hung in front of me, suspended by chains from the ceiling, his arms pulled tight, every muscle straining against the weight. His head lolled forward, blood streaking his once smug face.
I stepped closer, boots scraping against the rough stone floor. Aiden's breathing was ragged, uneven. He knew what was coming. I wanted him to feel it—each second like a dagger twisting deeper into his soul.
"You're a tough bastard, I'll give you that." My voice echoed in the silence. The only other sound was the drip of blood hitting the floor, a steady, sickening rhythm.
Aiden grunted, lifting his he
