Scream wildly and panic

The cell was cold. Colder than ****.

Eleanor huddled in the corner, her knees drawn to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around her trembling body. Her thin, filthy shift barely offered any protection from the chill seeping through the damp stone walls. The air was thick with the stench of sweat, piss, and despair — the scent of countless souls who had wasted away in these very pits.

Her breathing was ragged, her mind a chaotic swirl of confusion and terror.

“This isn’t real…” she whispered, her voice barely louder than the dripping water echoing through the dark.

She had died. She remembered the beeping of the machines, the sterile hospital room, the quiet agony as her body gave out. But this?

This was wrong.

“No, no… I was supposed to…” Her voice cracked as panic clawed at her throat. “I was supposed to rest… I was supposed to—”

Her eyes darted around the cell, searching for some shred of sanity. But all she saw were the broken remains of other souls who had been thrown into this hell.

“This… this can’t be…”

Her heart pounded as her thoughts spiraled. The weight of the iron shackles on her wrists and ankles felt too real. The ache in her limbs, the soreness of her throat from crying — it was all too real.

“Am I in hell?” Her voice grew louder, trembling with hysteria. “Did I die and— and this is my punishment?”

Tears streamed down her face as her breathing quickened. “No… no… this isn’t right! I didn’t do anything wrong! I’m not supposed to be here!”

She clawed at the iron cuffs, her fingers bleeding as she tried to rip them away.

“I DON’T BELONG HERE!”

Her voice echoed off the walls, bouncing back at her like a cruel mockery.

“I’M FROM ANOTHER WORLD!” The words spilled out, raw and frantic. “I DIED— I WAS SICK— AND NOW I’M HERE—”

Her chest heaved as she gasped for breath. “SOMEONE HELP ME!”

“SHUT UP!”

The bark echoed down the corridor. Heavy footsteps pounded against the stone.

Eleanor froze, her eyes wide as two guards stormed into the cell. Their faces were obscured by metal helms, but their disdain was evident in their stance.

“What’s all this racket about?” one of them growled, his voice thick with irritation.

Eleanor’s lips trembled, her mind spinning out of control. “I… I’m not from here!” Her voice cracked, her words pouring out before she could stop them. “I’m not supposed to be here! This isn’t my world! I— I died and then I woke up here!”

The guards exchanged a glance. Their expressions hardened.

“Another one…” one muttered, shaking his head. “They always go mad after a few days.”

“No! I’m not mad!” Eleanor’s voice grew frantic. “I swear— I’m telling the truth!”

But the guards weren’t listening.

“She’s possessed.”

The words made Eleanor’s blood run cold.

“A spirit.” The taller guard’s voice was grim, his gaze narrowing as he stared at her. “Only demons speak o’ other worlds. She’s nothin’ but a foul thing wearin’ flesh.”

Eleanor’s heart pounded.

“What? No! I’m not—”

“We don’t take chances.”

“PLEASE!” She scrambled backward, her back hitting the cold wall.

But they were already moving.

The shorter guard unsheathed his blade, its dull edge glinting faintly in the dim light.

“Mercy,” Eleanor begged, her voice barely a whisper now. “Please… I didn’t…”

“Mercy’s for the gods.”

The sword plunged into her chest.

Eleanor’s scream caught in her throat as pain exploded through her body. Her eyes widened, her breath hitching as the cold steel tore through her heart.

Her vision blurred.

Darkness clawed at the edges of her mind.

“May the gods take pity on ya, spirit,” the guard murmured, his voice distant as the world slipped away.

As her consciousness faded, a chilling whisper echoed in her mind.

⚠️ OOC WARNING: GAME OVER ⚠️

“In this world, it’s unwise to let the right hand know what the left hand is doing. You revealed too much… and now the price has been paid.”

“Next time… tread carefully.”

The darkness claimed her.