Chapter 20

Lord Alista's anger was palpable as he circled his prey. With a twisted smile, he reveled in the power he held over Geoffrey, a power that was about to be exercised in the most gruesome manner. He relished in inflicting pain, in watching a once-trusted ally crumble before him. Each moment of torment was a symphony to his sadistic desires, a dance of agony that echoed in the very marrow of Geoffrey's bones.

The cringe-worthy moment came as Lord Alista's eyes gleamed with malice. He ordered Geoffrey's limbs to be stretched beyond their natural limits, bones creaking and muscles tearing as he was forced into an unnatural posture. The sound of breaking echoed through the chamber, a symphony of suffering that served as a testament to Lord Alista's dominion.

Geoffrey's cries, muffled and desperate, filled the air, a haunting melody of anguish. His body trembled, a canvas of agony painted with sweat and blood. The torment seemed endless, an eternity of pain that eroded his will and shattered his resolve.

When Lord Alista finally released his grip, Geoffrey hung limp from the chains, a broken puppet who had danced to the tune of his master's cruelty. With a cold smile, Lord Alista dismissed Geoffrey, ordering him to be cast into a cellhold as a living reminder of his failure.

As Geoffrey was thrown into his darkened cell, chains clinking like a macabre lullaby, his torment continued. Lord Alista's instructions were clear: feed him once, only at dusk, a meager offering of sustenance for a shattered soul.

In the depths of the cellhold, Geoffrey's eyes held a flicker of defiance, a spark of the spirit that had not been entirely extinguished. Alone in the darkness, he clung to the memories of betrayal and retribution, his thoughts a testament to the fact that even in the most desolate of places, hope could be kindled like a flame in the night.