The cold, damp air of the dungeons pressed against my skin like a suffocating weight. I had only been here a handful of times when my parents were alive, and never this far in. The dungeons were split into three levels, each descending deeper into hell. The innermost level, where I now found myself, was reserved for the worst of criminals and the cruelest of punishments.
The walls were cracked and stained, whispering secrets of the horrors they had witnessed. The air reeked of damp stone, rot, and despair. Every step the guards took echoed through the narrow corridor, amplifying my dread.
My heart pounded in my chest as we approached the last room. The sight of the tall, rusted drum filled with water sent a jolt of terror through me. The water's surface shimmered faintly in the dim torch
