Duskfall

loomed darkly over Regalia, an imposing structure that seemed to absorb all light, casting long, twisting shadows across the land. The castle’s stone walls, though beautiful in their design, gave off an eerie presence—a feeling of both power and something far darker. Inside, the air was thick with tension, and the distant echoes of commands and punishment reverberated through its halls. Duskfall wasn’t just a place; it was a symbol of authority and control, a kingdom ruled by the unforgiving hand of Claude Elias, the fallen angel.

As Stephen entered the castle, his heart pounded in his chest. He knew what awaited him—his father wouldn’t tolerate failure. Stephen’s mission had gone horribly wrong, and now he was about to face the consequences. He tried his best to stay quiet, to remain unnoticed, but it was no use. The shadows seemed to curl around him, sensing his guilt, and it wasn’t long before Claude appeared in the hallway. His presence, cold and commanding, stopped Stephen in his tracks.

“You failed, didn’t you?” Claude’s voice was icy, cutting through the silence with ease. He stepped toward Stephen, his cold gaze piercing through the air.

Stephen flinched, the words lodged in his throat. “I… I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to—”

Claude’s eyes narrowed. “A little birdie told me you backed out and let your prey run free, all because you felt bad.” His voice was drenched in disgust. “Pathetic.”

Stephen stepped back, the weight of his father’s words making him stumble slightly. The walls seemed to close in around him as he was trapped, unable to escape the storm that was about to hit. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, his voice trembling. “I didn’t want to hurt her, She didn't deserve it”

Claude’s eyes darkened as he raised a hand, his fingers curling around a syringe containing a strange, ominous liquid. The silence in the hallway was deafening. “You don’t understand, boy,” Claude said coldly, his expression now twisted in anger. “You don't get to decide if they deserve it or not. You are a disappointment, Stephen.”

Before Stephen could react, his father was on him, his hand wrapping tightly around his throat. Stephen gasped for air, his heart racing as Claude lifted him off the ground. Panic surged through his veins. “Please, father, don’t—”

Claude’s grip tightened, his voice growing darker. “You can’t afford to show failure. You think I didn’t notice? You think I wouldn’t punish you for that?” His voice was like ice, and every word felt like a slap. “If I see a tear from you, I’ll make sure you feel what hell on earth is like.”

Stephen’s eyes welled up as his father’s grip constricted around his throat. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Desperation surged through him. He kicked his legs, trying to pry his father’s hand away, but it was useless. Every time he attempted to fight back, Claude’s grip only tightened further.

The pressure in his chest became unbearable, and his vision started to blur. But still, Stephen fought—kicking, clawing at his father’s arms. His body trembled with the effort. The burning in his chest, his lungs screaming for air, was too much to handle.

With a final, desperate effort, Stephen’s hands pushed against Claude’s chest, and he managed to twist his body just enough to break free. His breath came in ragged gasps as he stumbled back, trying to get distance between himself and his father. He chuckled finding it amusing how hes trying to fight back.

In a flash, he was upon Stephen again, this time grabbing him by the arm and dragging him down the hallway. Stephen’s heart pounded in his chest as he pleaded for mercy, his feet scraping against the cold stone floor. “I’m sorry, father, please! I’ll fix it, I swear!”

Claude’s grip tightened as he dragged his son toward the basement. Stephen’s mind raced, his thoughts a blur of panic. His father’s anger was palpable, suffocating. “You will learn to never disobey me again, Stephen. You will not fail me. Not again.”

The cold, damp air of the basement hit Stephen’s skin as they reached the door. The sound of heavy chains clinking against the stone walls echoed in the oppressive silence. Stephen’s heart sank. He knew what awaited him in this dark, lonely place.

As Claude threw him into the basement, Stephen’s legs buckled beneath him, and he collapsed onto the cold stone floor. His father pulled out a set of chains and wrapped them around Stephen’s wrists, fastening them securely to the wall. The cold metal bit into his skin, sending a chill through his body.

“Clear up the tears now, boy,” Claude ordered, his voice low and filled with disdain.

Stephen wiped his eyes, but it was no use. His emotions, his fear, his guilt—it was all too much. The tears kept coming, and each one felt like a betrayal in his father’s eyes.