The Dungeon (2)

~ Amira ~

The flickering torches that lined the passageway cast eerie shadows that danced along the walls, creating an illusion of moving phantoms. The smell of decay and misery lingered in the air, a constant reminder of the suffering endured by those unfortunate souls imprisoned in the darkness.

Finally, they arrived at the interrogation chamber, where the smell of blood was already wafting in the air. This was where secrets were to be extracted through any means necessary. The sound of metal against stone echoed from within, hinting at the instruments used to persuade unwilling tongues.

Amira was proud of the two prisoners who seemed to be in sorry states. How they were still alive was beyond her. But that was why a skilled torturer was inside the cell with them.

“What have you learnt so far?” Amira asked, glancing at the two men whose shirts had been ripped apart, revealing the wounds the interrogator had already made.

A bespectacled man with slender features and a pallid comple