CHAPTER - 45

  Narrator: Deep within the 76th underground floor, light was a forgotten concept.

  Time dissolved amidst muffled screams and the stench of death that permeated the walls.

  Dav walked calmly.

  Matteo followed in silence, his eyes burning with a twisted curiosity.

  Bernard stopped in front of a cell.

  Bernard: (Voice tense) Cell 79,540, 76th floor.

  Dav: (Coldly) No noise.

  I want them to hear only this.

  Narrator: The men obeyed.

  Silence fell like a shroud.

  Dav opened the cell.

  Inside, Zephirus Maldroth lay on the floor, a broken shadow of the sadist he once was.

  Slowly, he lifted his gaze.

  Zephirus: (Whispering, with a distorted smile) You've come...

  [Dav watched him without expression.

  He stepped in and closed the door.]

  Dav: (Emotionless voice) Today you will not die.

  Today you will suffer.

  [Phase 1: Physical Dismantling]

  Narrator: Dav knelt and, with a swift movement, grabbed Zephirus's right hand.

  CRACK.

  The wrist broke cleanly. Pain exploded like fire through Zephirus's nerves, making him gasp.

  Zephirus: (Gritting his teeth) Hhng...

  Dav: (Whispering) Don't scream. Not yet.

  Zephirus: (Laughing manically) You think I haven't had worse? AHAHAH! KILL ME! YOU WON'T GET ANY ANSWERS FROM ME!

  Narrator: Dav took the broken hand and began snapping the fingers one by one.

  Each snap was followed by a muffled scream.

  When he finished, the hand was no longer a hand but a twisted mess of flesh and broken bones.

  Matteo: (Watching with curiosity) Are you trying to make him talk?

  Or are you just enjoying this?

  Dav: (Coldly) I don't care about talking.

  Just breaking him.

  Narrator: Calmly, he took a scalpel and made a long incision along Zephirus's left thigh.

  The skin parted, revealing the muscle beneath.

  Dav: (Caressing the wound) Have you ever wondered how long you can survive without muscle tissue?

  Narrator: With a precise movement, he inserted his fingers into the wound and tore off a chunk of flesh.

  Zephirus arched, a scream tearing from his lips.

  The blood flowed, warm and thick.

  Dav observed the piece of flesh between his fingers.

  Then, slowly, he pressed it to Zephirus’s mouth.

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  Dav: (Commanding) Eat it.

  Zephirus: (Whispering, with a broken voice) You... are... a... monster...

  Narrator: Dav took a hot iron and plunged it into the open wound.

  The smell of burning flesh filled the cell as Zephirus screamed, his body convulsing with uncontrollable spasms.

  [Phase 2: The Loss of Senses]

  Narrator: When Zephirus started to lose consciousness, Dav slapped him hard, bringing him back to the reality of pain.

  Dav: (Coldly) Don't sleep. Not yet.

  Narrator: He took a thin needle and pushed it under a fingernail.

  Slowly. Slowly.

  Until the tip pierced the underlying skin.

  Zephirus trembled, his breath ragged with sobs.

  Then Dav took a pair of pliers and began ripping off the nails one by one.

  The first came off with a wet snap.

  The second required more force.

  By the fourth, Zephirus had urinated on himself.

  Matteo: (Whispering) Now this is getting interesting.

  Narrator: When all ten nails were scattered on the floor, Zephirus could no longer speak.

  Only his irregular breath indicated he was still alive.

  Dav: (Low voice) Still awake? Good.

  Narrator: He grabbed his jaw with force, opening his mouth violently.

  He took a thin blade and began cutting his gums.

  Slow, precise, methodical.

  The blood filled Zephirus’s mouth, suffocating him with a wet gurgle.

  Then, with a quick motion, he ripped out a tooth.

  Zephirus screamed, an animalistic sound, pure terror.

  One after another, the teeth were removed with surgical cruelty.

  The blood dripped down his chin, staining the prison like a ritual offering.

  [Phase 3: Total Destruction]

  Narrator: After an hour of pure agony, Zephirus was no longer a man.

  He was a heap of trembling flesh, broken bones, torn muscles, his face reduced to a mask of blood.

  But it wasn't over yet.

  Dav: (Whispering) Do you know what it means to lose the light?

  Narrator: He inserted his thumbs into the eye sockets and pressed.

  Zephirus convulsed, his skull vibrating under the pressure.

  Then, with a disgusting sound, his eyes were forced out of their sockets.

  The cell filled with a scream so desperate it sounded like the song of a damned soul.

  Dav: (Caressing the bloodied face) Now we talk.

  Narrator: Zephirus, unable to resist any longer, began to confess.

  Through sobs and wheezing, he revealed secrets, including the name of the Azraeloth Sect.

  Matteo wrote it down.

  When it was done, Zephirus lifted what remained of his face toward Dav.

  Zephirus: (With a faint voice) Please... kill me...

  Narrator: Dav knelt down and stared at him for a long moment.

  Then, without warning, he grabbed his tongue and tore it out with a bite.

  Blood sprayed everywhere. Zephirus contorted, choking on his own pain.

  Dav: (With no remorse) Not yet.

  Narrator: With a swift gesture, he plunged his hand into the chest and tore out Zephirus’s heart, holding it still beating for a moment.

  The body collapsed.

  The heart stopped beating.

  Dav threw it on the floor and crushed it under his boot.

  Dav: (Without remorse) Now you're free.

  Matteo: (laughing quietly)

  (Smiling) You're my favorite, Dav.

  Narrator: Silence hung heavy.

  The echo of Zephirus’s tortured screams had barely faded, leaving only the sickening sound of blood dripping on the floor.

  The stench of burnt flesh filled the walls of the cell, an odor that would linger in the stone for years.

  Dav stood up, his breath calm, his face splattered with red that ran down his chin.

  His expression hadn't changed: cold eyes, devoid of any emotion. Beside him, Matteo finished writing down the last details, his hand still slightly trembling.

  Outside the cell, Bernard and the Director remained still. The tough-skinned colossus, who had witnessed atrocities throughout his life, now felt a chill deep in his bones.

  He had seen men torture for revenge, for pleasure, for duty... but never like this. Never with that precision, that absence of hesitation.

  Bernard: (Swallowing hard, voice low) That wasn’t an interrogation.

  That was a descent into hell.

  Narrator: The Director didn’t say anything for a long moment.

  His mind was analyzing the scene with precision.

  He knew the legendary hero, he knew of Dav's reputation.

  But what he had just witnessed was beyond anything he could have imagined.

  The Director: (In a neutral, measured tone) The man is dead. But you? How much of you is left?

  Narrator: Dav slowly turned toward them, his gaze lifeless, almost irritated by the question.

  Dav: (Coldly) Enough to finish what I started.

  Narrator: He approached the door with heavy steps, leaving behind the dismembered corpse, the blood still dripping from his hands.

  Matteo followed without a word, while Bernard cast one final glance at the horror in the cell, shuddering.

  The Director sighed, lowering his gaze for a moment before turning away.

  The Director: (Softly) And if, when all this is over, there's nothing left to save of him?

  Narrator: No one responded.

  But in the thick air of death and silence, the question hung in the air.

  Each and every prisoner, silently, listened to that brutality.

  They all felt a terrifying fear, one so profound that they would reveal anything just to avoid him asking them if he ever came back.

  A tomb-like silence enveloped the prison corridors. No breath, no whisper, only the constant dripping of blood mixing with the cold stone.

  Every prisoner, hidden behind the rusted bars of their cells, had heard every scream, every plea, every sound of flesh being torn away.

  They had heard the crackling of broken bones, the muffled gasp of a man reduced to shreds. And now... the fear.

  A visceral terror crept into each of them.

  Prisoner 1: (Whispering in a broken voice) That... that wasn't a man...

  Prisoner 2: (Hugging their knees, trembling) If he comes here... if he looks at me... I'll talk... I'll talk about everything... anything...

  Narrator: The brutality they had witnessed, even without seeing it, was something beyond human.

  A slow, methodical execution, done not just to obtain information, but to teach a lesson: anyone on his list would find no escape.

  Some pressed their foreheads against the cold iron of the bars, their faces contorted in terror.

  Others couldn’t breathe, suffocated by the thought that one day, that man could stop in front of their cell.

  And in that abyss of silence and horror, a new truth was born among the prisoners: do not fear the judgment of the law, but the judgment of Dav.

  [Biography:

  Name: Zephirus Maldroth

  Biography: Zephirus Maldroth is a Black Mage of S-rank with a twisted mind, who once sought absolute power but was corrupted by his own greed.

  At 44 years old, with a dark past and a career marked by forbidden experiments and curses, he became a feared and hated figure.

  His dark magic is devastating, capable of manipulating minds and souls, turning others into pawns in his service.

  His madness is evident in his cold eyes and his sinister whispers.

  No one knows exactly what drove him to become this way, but it is clear that his existence is nothing more than an act of destruction, an emblematic "scum" that cannot be easily stopped.

  END OF CHAPTER - 45