Bound By Alpha Kaelith

Chapter 2: Into the Abyss

Arin’s heart pounded so loudly that he was sure the walls themselves could hear it. He was being dragged through the massive, shadowed corridors of the castle, corridors that felt less like a building and more like a living nightmare. Every step echoed ominously, swallowed by the darkness above, and the cold stone walls seemed to close in on him with every movement. His hands scraped against the rough surfaces, feeling the damp chill seep into his bones. The faint smell of smoke, iron, and decay twisted his stomach. Somewhere deep in the shadows, the faint scuff of the guards’ boots and the clinking of their armor reminded him that he was not free.

“Hey! Stop!” one of the guards barked, yanking Arin to a halt. He glared at the taller guard beside him. “What is this… creature you’ve brought? Where did you find it?”

The taller guard, calm and unreadable, said, “We found it near the forest, close to the castle. It didn’t run when approached. Didn’t hide. It… observed.”

Arin froze. “Observe?” He swallowed, panic twisting his stomach. “I’m not a… creature! I’m a person!”

The first guard’s eyes narrowed. “A person? You expect us to believe that? Its defiance… its calm… it’s unnatural.”

The taller guard’s voice cut in, low and dangerous. “Do not speak unless spoken to. The Master does not tolerate interruptions. And the forest will not protect you here.”

Arin’s mind raced. Master? Forest? Protect me? What… what is this place?

The first guard gave a sharp nod. “Bring it forward. The Master will decide if it belongs in this world or if it will vanish.”

They continued through the long, shadowed corridor. Torches flickered along the walls, casting shadows that twisted and reached like living things. Each echo of Arin’s steps bounced off the stone like a drumbeat of dread. Every breath he drew felt thick, almost viscous, carrying a faint metallic scent that made his stomach churn. The air itself seemed alive, pressing against his lungs, making each inhale a struggle.

He tried to calm himself, gripping his own arms as if holding onto sanity could shield him. This isn’t real… it can’t be real… But every nerve in his body screamed otherwise. Every flickering shadow seemed to hold a thousand unseen eyes. Every distant echo sounded like footsteps behind him, though when he looked, the corridors remained empty.

Finally, they arrived at massive black doors, etched with jagged runes that pulsed faintly. The guards stepped back, letting the oppressive threshold loom over him. Arin’s legs trembled violently. Every step toward the doors felt like walking on shards of ice. Shadows twisted unnaturally, stretching toward him like hungry hands.

A deep groaning creak echoed through the corridor as the doors began to open. A cold draft swept over him, carrying the faint tang of iron and something darker—alive, almost sentient, pressing against him before he could even see it. The sound was like a low growl vibrating through the floor, rattling his teeth, curling around his ears.

Beyond the doors, the hall was cavernous, stretching impossibly far. At the far end, a massive throne of black stone rose, jagged and etched with faintly glowing runes. And upon it sat Kaelith—Alpha Demon, Lord of the Abyss.

The air seemed to bow under him. Shadows shrank, torches flickered, and even the guards seemed small, insignificant, trembling in the immense presence. Kneeling before him were prisoners trembling, sobbing, desperate. Hands shackled, foreheads pressed to the cold stone, their pleas echoing pitifully.

“Please… Alpha… have mercy…” one man cried, voice cracking. His shaking hands rattled the chains violently. Another clutched his companion, sobbing so hard the sound of his own tears seemed deafening. The air itself seemed to vibrate with fear, each note of anguish hanging heavy like smoke.

Arin’s stomach knotted. He had seen cruelty before, yes. Violence in news, on the streets, even in movies but this…this was real. Absolute. Merciless. And it wasn’t random; it was precise, deliberate, like an executioner practicing a deadly art.

Kaelith rose from his throne, every motion controlled, deliberate, impossibly graceful. The room seemed to grow darker, the shadows curling in fear. Each step he took reverberated through the hall, a warning and a claim. His presence pressed down on Arin like a weight, suffocating, immobilizing.

One by one, Kaelith struck. Each kill was quick, precise, terrifyingly elegant. Flesh parted, cries erupted and ended abruptly, silence following like a hammer. Blood sprayed, hot and metallic, staining the stone floor. The scent of iron and burning fear clung to the walls. Arin pressed his hands to his mouth, knees shaking, tears streaming down his face. He had never witnessed death so raw, so immediate. Every body that fell made his stomach twist, bile threatening to rise.

The sound, the gurgle of life snatched away, the desperate sobs cut short—etched itself into his mind. Each scream, each abrupt silence, each splash of blood became a tattoo of terror he could never erase.

And still, Kaelith’s crimson eyes did not waver. The Alpha Demon was merciless, a force that killed without thought, without hesitation. His aura pressed against every living thing, suffocating, dominating.

Arin’s mind screamed. He’s going to kill me. He’s really going to kill me.

The guards forced him upright. “Look,” one hissed, “open your eyes.”

Arin did. And Kaelith’s gaze locked onto him, cold, unreadable, absolute. Every instinct screamed to flee, hide, vanish but the grip on him was iron.

The hall fell silent. The air quivered with power. Even the shadows seemed to shrink away from the Alpha Demon. And in that moment, Arin understood the terrifying truth: Kaelith showed no mercy to anyone. And now… he was next.