LGHTNOVELBOOK Chapter 2: Chapter 2 — Thumping Sound
It took precisely two hours—a hundred and twenty minutes passed—in about seven thousand and two hundred seconds of pure, uninterrupted torment. *Thump-thump* *Thump-thump* That thumping sound echoed through the chamber, steady and relentless. The suspended man's body finally succumbed to the blood loss, his head slumping forward in a faint. *Thump-thump* *Thump-thump*
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A few minutes ticked by since the hooded man left the room, disappearing into the shadows after unleashing his ruthless torture. *Thump* *Thump* *Thump* The air was heavy with the stench of blood, sweat, and excretory filth. Pieces of flesh and hair clung to the rusty chains, while the bloody floor seemed to bear the image of a wicked, bloody nightmare. *Thump-thump* *Thump-thump*
The suspended prisoner stirred, his eyes fluttering open to reveal a blurry, unfocused world. *Thump* *Thump* He struggled to keep them open, his gaze drifting toward the stumps that were once his legs. 'Tis… bright in here,' he thought, his mind foggy. *Thump-thump* A second realization hit him like a cold wave: 'Wait… why can't I feel me legs… Oh, that's right… He cut 'em off, the fuckin' bastard!' *Thump* *Thump*
As his vision slowly regained clarity, the suspended man took in his surroundings. *Thump-thump* *Thump-thump* The room, once a dim, foreboding space, was now illuminated by the soft glow of magically floating orbs. The iron chamber, with its cold, unforgiving walls, floors, and ceiling, seemed to close in around him. *Thump* *Thump* The rusty chains, the blood-stained floor, and the putrid smell all blended together to create a sense of claustrophobic dread. *Thump-thump*
The suspended Irish man's gaze wandered, his thoughts consumed by the agony and the grotesque reality of his situation. *Thump* *Thump* Suddenly, his nose wrinkled in distaste. 'Ugh… Jayzus, that stench!' he thought. 'I didn't notice it before, but 'tis like the very stench o' death itself—is that all from me!? Couldn't be, could it, ye great gowl!?'*Thump-thump**Thump-thump*
The air was heavy with the stench of rust and suffering. *Thump-thump* *Thump-thump* The chains were hung from the ceiling like skeletal fingers, their lengths tangled and twisted in a mad dance. And right in the centre of that mad dance was our suspended prisoner, wrapped in chains that seemed to bite deep into his flesh.
Then he suddenly had a thought, 'These are new…' He had his eyes on the chains that held him up, and indeed, to the man, these chains seemed different from the last ones that held him up. *Thump-thump* These ones had thorns and seemed almost alive, pulsating like a soft heartbeat.
"That's a weird sound that a chain's making, but that's probably the least weird thing in the room," the man thought to himself, his voice low and laced with a hint of an Irish brogue. *Thump*
As he briefly used his eyes to take note of the weirder things in the room—the crimson-hued iron chamber, the array of chains hanging from the walls and ceiling like macabre tapestries, and the weirdest of them all, the magically floating orbs of lights, as well as the newly added glowing vials of different colors—his gaze widened in a mix of fascination and terror. *Thump-thump*
"Ye know, I'd heard o' magic in different parts o' the world, but I'd never thought I'd get to witness such a thing like this before," the suspended man said, his Irish accent growing slightly thicker. *Thump* "An' that man... 'E seemed to be a mage o' some kind, maybe 'e's one o' those dark mages I've 'eard so much about. If I recall rightly, the wee orphan kids told me about some bad scunderin' stuff that a single mage did a long, long time ago, so they did."
The suspended man's gaze drifted toward the dark hallway at the far end of the chamber, its passage hewn from rough, black stone. *Thump* The air that wafted from the hallway was heavy with the scent of damp earth and vegetation, and it seemed to carry the faint whisper of flowing water.
"Could I maybe call fer 'elp? No way, that monster would just return an' possibly slit me tongue, so 'e would!" *Thump-thump* *Thump* The suspended man's Irish brogue had grown thicker, his words laced with a desperate urgency.
He let out a deep sigh, resigned to his fate. "I'm...I'm going to die here, aren't I?"
But before despair could consume him, a voice echoed through the chamber.
"Die? Hahaha, not on my watch."
The hooded man emerged from the darkness, his demeanour surprisingly cheerful. He stepped into the soft light, his menacing presence undiminished. However, his blood-stained gloves now held a peculiar item – a small glass vial filled with a glowing golden liquid.
The suspended man eyed the vial warily. "What's that glowy thing in yer hand?"
The hooded man chuckled, holding up the vial. "Oh, this? It's a little rare item I got just for you."
His whisper sent shivers down the suspended man's spine. "You'll surely love it. It'll make all your pain go away...and then some."
The hooded man placed the vial amongst other coloured vials on the side table.
"I-I see..." the suspended man replied, his voice laced with worry.
The hooded man pointed at his chest. "By the way, I'm impressed you're not bothered by the clear and loud thumping sound it makes."
The suspended man seemed perplexed. "Oh, ye mean the new chains, do ya? Ah've actually got used to them."
The hooded man's confusion deepened. "What do you mean by 'new chains'?"
"I mean the new chains ye've got me hanging from."
The hooded man's head tilted in confusion. "Huh?"
The suspended man mirrored his motion. "Eh?"
The two stared at each other, confusion etched on their faces, well one's face, and the other's dark void of a face.
The hooded man placed his palm on his forehead, attempting to clarify. "Looks like you've got it wrong, mate. The thumping sounds aren't coming from the chains."
"Huh?" voiced the suspended man. The explanation only seemed to deepen the suspended man's confusion.
.The suspended man's confusion deepened, his Irish brogue growing thicker by the minute. "What in the name o' all that's holy are ye tryin' to say? Can't ye see the new chains are thumpin' away like a drum in a pagan ritual? 'Tis like they're suckin' the very blood from me veins, they are!"
A faint thumping sound echoed through the chamber, almost imperceptible, but synchronized with the suspended man's heartbeat.
The hooded man scratched his head in bewilderment. "What in the bloody hell are you ranting on about!?" he exclaimed in a worried tone.
The thumping sound grew slightly louder, its rhythm steady and ominous, as the suspended man's frustration intensified.
At this point, the hooded man's mind was filled with thoughts of concern for the suspended man. 'He isn't losing it, is he? Also, is it just me or is he laying the Irish accents a bit too thick? He clearly wasn't before… Or was he, the poor bastard?'
The thumping sound increased in volume, its beat synchronizing with the suspended man's ragged breathing as his anxiety peaked.
He approached the suspended man, looked into his bloody purple pupils and asked, "Don't tell me you've already begun to hallucinate from the little sessions we've shared, have you? Did I already break you?"
The thumping sound grew louder still, vibrating through the chamber as the suspended man's desperation grew.
"What are ye tryin' to say, ye bastard?" The suspended man demanded with a perturbed expression.
"Fair play, I've not messed with your chains, mate. They're just old, rusty ones."
The thumping sound reached a deafening crescendo, its vibrations palpable in the air as the suspended man's emotions boiled over.
"So, no magical blood-sucking chains?"
The hooded man assured, "No magical blood-sucking chains of any kind in this or any reality, mate." He even pointed out an experience from his past. "There are vines with thorns that do drain mages of mana, though… Brr… That was a horrible experience."
The suspended man's anger and fear fueled the thumping sound, making it almost unbearable."Wait a minute, will ye? If the chains ain't makin' those really loud thumpin' sounds, then what is?"
The hooded man tilted his head once more in confusion, then pointed at the suspended man's chest, saying, "You've not exactly taken a good look at yourself, have you?"
The confused prisoner tilted his head, imitating the hooded man's confused gesture, then slowly drifted downwards in dread. His head dropped, chin sinking towards his bloody sternum, and his purple pupils widened in horror.
A faint *Thump-thump* echoed through the chamber, growing louder with each beat.
The sight that greeted him was a grotesque parody of anatomy — his chest was torn open with surgical precision, the skin flayed back to reveal the glistening, crimson-stained ribs and the pulsating heart beneath.
The *Thump-thump* grew louder, more insistent, as the suspended man's horror intensified.
The suspended man's heart still beat with a rhythmic, thumping sound, a grim reminder that he was still alive, still trapped in this waking nightmare. The organ pulsed with a loud yet feeble, desperate energy, as if straining to break free from the ravaged cage of his chest.
"W-What is this?" the suspended man questioned his torturer with a strangled gasp—his thick Irish accent seemed to had mellowed as well. It was as if his brain struggled to comprehend the extent of his mutilation.
The *Thump-thump* grew louder still, vibrating through the chamber.
"Well, it's your heart, isn't it?" the delighted hooded man answered.
"I-I… What…?" the suspended man couldn't muster the words. His eyes bulged, his face pale and slick with cold sweat, as he stared at the butchered landscape of his own torso.
The *Thump-thump* reached a deafening crescendo, echoing the suspended man's unmitigated terror.
A low, keening whimper built in his throat, a sound that seemed to shake his entire body.
Then, with a shaken mind, he fearfully asked, "How...I'm I still alive?"
"How?" the hooded man responded, his voice laced with surprise.
The suspended man's eyes darted towards the array of colourful elixirs on the nearby table, his mind racing with dread.
The hooded man's voice dropped to a menacing whisper, "You think those elixirs were just for show, mate? I couldn't have you kicking the bucket after just one round, could I? Oh no, we've got a long, bloody session ahead of us. Trust me, you'll be begging for it to end."
The hooded man's gaze lingered on the suspended man, his eyes glinting with sadistic intent. He then turned his attention to the elixirs, his gloved hands moving with an unsettling deliberateness as he sorted through the various vials.
Suddenly, he let out a triumphant cry, "Yes! With this particular combination...he'll be as good as immortal!"
The hooded man's gaze snapped back towards the suspended man, and for a fleeting instant, a sliver of his face was visible – a lip ring piercing glinted, and a twisted grin spread across his face like a crack in porcelain. "And that's when the real fun begins..."
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