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A historical novel I decided to write to practice my English, so forgive any grammar or continuity errors, I welcome critiques and ideas for the development of the novel. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I was thrown into the wheel of reincarnation as a historical figure in the year 1818, at the beginning of the Victorian era. I, a simple university student, am now destined to live in a bygone era in a country I don't know much about. It is an opportunity to make a grand mark in history, as I find myself in the body of the newborn Alexandre Nikolaevich Romanov. The MC is manipulative and not a good person, he won't have a harem, he will only have one wife, but like his historical counterpart, this won't limit him much. I intend to write 18+ scenes, both sexual and somewhat gore, but there will be a warning beforehand. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I don't have the cover image, as it belongs to Jesse Smith.
I woke up feeling groggy, with a headache and a ringing in my ear. I like to think of myself as someone who doesn't have these fancy and intellectual phobias, these new fears that someone invents every hour. But when you're introduced to an environment like the one I'm in right now, you start to reconsider your entire concept of fear.
Total darkness, unbearable heat, and the sound, the sound is the worst—deafening guttural screams. This is hell, damn it! I should have listened to my mother and gone to church while I had the chance. Now this is my existence—eternal pain and suffering. As I was lost in my internal monologue, reevaluating my entire life with hints of madness creeping in, my confinement shifted, writhed, and twisted. Either I was about to meet my captors or a torture session was beginning.
I was mistaken; it wasn't torture but outright execution. The walls were closing in, crushing me in eternal agony. It felt as if I was being sucked through a tiny, narrow tunnel, like trying to pass a camel through the eye of a needle. When the tunnel of torment ended, I attempted to open my eyes, but blinding light flooded my vision. The brightness was so intense that it burned. My screams and cries failed to persuade my captors to cease their torture. On the contrary, it only fueled their sadistic satisfaction. Though I had not yet laid eyes on them, I could hear laughter and conversations in the background, insane lunatics! i will have my revenge.
I didn't know what methods of torture these were, but they were efficient. I could confess my worst secrets now, although I didn't have any significant secrets to begin with—I was just an ordinary guy. But in this realm of agony, I couldn't think of anything, let alone understand why I was in this situation.
Finally, it was over. My eyes still burned, but after that torture in the tunnel, I was wrapped in a blanket and carried away. I could only hear a rhythmic sound in the voice of a woman, as if it were a lullaby. I forced my eyes open and then understood my suffering—it wasn't hell, similar but different. I had been reborn. Now, the die is cast, and my luck is about to be tested.
