The Awakening

Chapter One

For every sin, there is a price to be paid. For every wish, a deadly sacrifice must be made.

The smell of burning flesh, clouded the air of the dungeon. There was no source of light and the darkness, was consuming. It strangled every hope and burnt out every dream.

A cage, was placed at the end of the dungeon and, a man sat in this cage, naked but covered in scars and bruises. Steam, came from his body as though he had taken a hot shower or rather, been thrown into a volcano.

He breathed slowly, trying to control his movement but it was difficult because, each time he released a breath, the chains around his neck tightened, choking him slowly.

He coughed and spat out blood, he was truly at his limit. He was at the edge of sanity, a little push, and he would be deep in the abyss of madness.

Would he find peace when he ran mad? When he had truly paid with his life?

He shook his head at this thoughts, he couldn't be broken yet, this was a small price to pay. A thousand years of torment.

He coughed up more blood as the chains tightened around his neck.

How many centuries had already passed since he had been locked up in this hell? How many lives had been stolen since his departure?

"Failure! Weak King!"

He shook as voices rang around the dungeon. Just then, hot lava was poured on his skin causing him to release a shrill scream, like an animal being slaughtered.

"Shameless!!"

"Disgraceful!!!"

He struggled, trying to rip one of his hands from the chains to cover his ear, to block out the voices but the chains around his hand tightened until he heard a crack, his hands had broken.

He released an inaudible scream, his voice was gone, stolen. He could no longer scream. He could no longer beg for death, he was not going to die no matter how much he was tortured.

"Failure!!!" The voice taunted.

The chains, burnt his skin and the pain grew worse. The pain shaped his reality and he slowly began to forget who he was.

"Why am I here? Who am I?" He gasped for air. What great sin had he committed that warranted this form of affliction?

Ah yes, yes he was paying the price to undo what had been done. He was paying the price, to set her free.

As he remembered why he was locked up, memories began to flash into his mind. Memories of when he had it all, the power, the fame, and the woman he loved, the time they spent. Tears gathered in his eyes as he thought of her. He had not shed a tear since his torment began. He had screamed, shouted, begged for death but never for once has he cried.

His head bent and just when he was about to lose consciousness, a little light shone at the beginning of the dungeon. This was the first time in centuries that he had seen something other than darkness.

He lifted up his head as the light drew near, blinding him. He closed his eyes and when he opened them, a woman, wearing a white robe, with skin as white as snow and lips as red as blood stood in front of him. It was a mystic.

"A fall from grace I must say."

He chuckled as he heard her speak. "Finally, another's voice asides mine." He said in a raspy voice.

She shook her head and looked at him with sadness. "Who would have thought a king would be reduced to something worse than a slave."

"What... do... you... want from me, witch?" He paused and gasped at each word.