Chapter 102: In the Dark (3)
A boy sat huddled in a basement, no older than 7, his small frame pressed against the cold concrete wall. The dim yellow light from a single bulb swinging overhead cast dancing shadows across his terrified face. Cuts and bruises painted his pale skin in sickening hues of purple and yellow—a canvas of cruelty that no child should bear. His thin arms wrapped around his knees as he cowered, pulling his trembling body as far away as physically possible from what lay before him. His throat was raw from screaming, each cry tearing at his vocal cords like sandpaper.
"Stop crying, Aziel," the stern man holding the leash commanded. His voice carried no emotion, no sympathy—just cold expectation that hung in the musty air between them.
The rabid dog at the end of that leash strained forward, its powerful muscles rippling beneath matted fur as it lunged repeatedly against its restraint. It was pulling at the leash with such savage force that white foam bubbled from its jaws, dripping onto the stained concrete floor. The animal choked against its collar, eyes bulging and bloodshot, but it never ceased its desperate attempts to reach the child. Each bark reverberated off the bare walls, amplifying the terror that filled the confined space.
"DAD, PLEASE!" the boy screamed desperately, his voice cracking with fear. He averted his tear-filled eyes from the rabid animal, now only a foot away from his face. The stench of the dog’s hot, fetid breath washed over him in nauseating waves.
"What? Are you scared, boy?" the stern man asked in a monotone voice that betrayed nothing of what might lie behind those cold, calculating eyes. He maintained his grip on the leash with practiced steadiness, neither advancing nor retreating—simply observing his son’s terror with clinical detachment.
"DAD!" the boy cried louder, tears streaming down his dirt-smudged cheeks, leaving clean trails that revealed the pale skin beneath.
The man’s expression tightened, the first hint of emotion—anger—flickering across his otherwise impassive features. "I said, are you scared, boy!?"
No response came from Aziel, just heaving sobs and broken screams that seemed to bounce off his father’s hardened exterior. His small chest heaved with each ragged breath, his fingers digging painfully into his own arms as he tried to make himself smaller, to disappear into the unyielding wall at his back.
The man’s voice raised higher, sharp with anger, cutting through the basement air like a knife. "ANSWER ME!"