Basement

The thunderous clang of the iron door slamming against the marble wall reverberated through the narrow stairway that Frei had just descended from. Followed by multiple sounds of footsteps and a soft yet audible sound of a wooden stick, smacked against the hard rough surface of the rocky staircase. Though the rhythmic sound was slower than walking pace, gradually closing into the depths of the basement and onto Frei with an eerie inevitability.

Frei was alerted by the noises, and looked at the door and the staircase behind him. The dimly lit narrow stairway progressively grew brighter with an orange tint alongside the sounds of the footsteps creasing into. Frei panicked. He frantically closes the door silently so as to not alert the two or three people descending towards the basement. Then he quickly observes his surroundings to find a suitable place to hide.

The Tables scattered all around him, each holding up multiple sharp tools. 

A Cart on his right, carrying multiple long rods.

A sophisticated shelf cabinet, at the far end of the basement. Its sizes are twice as big as Frei, and its inside is just big enough to fit inside a fully grown adult male. The cabinet door is 2 centimeters wide, and 10 centimeters long, just long enough to see the entire basement when peeped through it. Beside the shelf, an empty sconce was mounted on the wall.

On both his right and left side, multiple loose and rusted chains are mounted on the wall, its blood having been long dried.

Frei quickly ran over to the cabinet sitting at the far end of the basement, thinking that he could hide from them. His footsteps are quiet enough to not be heard by the men coming. His heart began to beep faster than usual.

As the footsteps got louder, and louder, it eventually came to a halt. Then the door stood in between the basement and the stairway, creaked, the door opened slowly and the men entered the room. Nothing has changed in their eyes.

Frei has successfully hid himself in the cabinet, from the men. He felt as if his heart was about to burst out of his body. He covered his mouth with his hands, one over the other, to muffle the sound of his heavy breathing. He pressed himself against the shelf's side, enveloped by the darkness inside the shelf, only a sliver of light seeped through the lengthy, thin peephole from the lanterns carried by the men outside of the shelf. 

"I am back. Berg. Wake up." A familiar old, husky voice arises. 

Frei pressed his hands softly and gently against the cabinet door, as to not reveal his location. His eyes placed just slightly before the peephole, peeking through it, towards the voices. His sight was limited only by the size of the peephole. Through the gaping peephole, he first saw the now orangish basement, the light coming from the lantern the men were holding, then he saw two men, one hunched back, holding a cane and the other one bandaged all over his body. It was the old man and the noble that had assaulted him before. 

"Ugh." Berg grunted.

"I didn't want to do this to you Berg. You've been with me for a grand total of…" The old man brought up his fingers, counting. "Of 25 years. Berg. But you harmed our guest! You just had to control yourself, yet… yet you decided to pummel him with your giant fist. I mean look at it." he said, pointing to Berg's bandaged hand. "You think a man like the noble behind me, weak and fragile, can withstand anything you throw at him? You're my property Berg, so anything you do…. Is my RESPONSIBILITY." he emphasized, while frowning at Berg directly at the eye.

"B…Boss. The man was about to rape a boy. H… How can I ignore it?" He groaned in pain from the multiple injuries on his body.

"Frei was it? The boy." The old man asked coldly.

"Y-Yes."

"Mr. Beckham, please consult me first before doing anything drastic like TOUCHING my property." He emphasized, glaring at the noble behind him. "However I won't sell someone like him. He's special you see." 

"The boy alongside this disgusting sub species attacked me. Don't you think I deserve some sort of compensation?" Mr Beckham, exclaimed in anger. 

"Isn't that what we came here for? Didn't you want to beat the "disgusting sub species" that pummeled you, so why don't you do it now. I did everything last time. Proper discipline you see, now it's your turn." the old man said coldly, as his body began to radiate malicious energy, the same one that can be felt back at the 'cage'. 

"..." Mr. Beckham quivered, a chill sent down his spine as he felt the incredible malicious and evil energy emitted by the imposing old man. The old man moved aside to let Beckham do his deed to Berg, his back sat against the smooth brick wall as both Berg and Beckham were in his line of sight. Then something in the back intrigued him, the cabinet shelf but he couldn't know for sure without his glasses. He squinted his eyes, having his entire focus on the small peephole in the cabinet door.

'Maybe I'm just seeing things, the old days seem to be catching up with me, can't help but be paranoid, I guess my age too.' the old man thought. For a moment then, the old man seemed to look weak and fragile in Frei's eyes, however Frei didn't feel any pity towards him, instead he felt an odd satisfaction rush through him the moment he saw the spectacle. 

*Thud*

The sound of a loud punch, echoed in the basement momentarily breaking both Frei's and the old man's thoughts. Beckham punched Berg straight in the jaw, then punched with another, though weak it was enough to cause damage to an already injured Berg. Berg spitted blood, each punch he took, however it didn't feel any pain to him nor did he feel anything, his entire body felt numb to the core, both his arms chained and bound where they can't physically move. The shackles bounded around his wrist so tightly it formed a slight dent in his wrist bones, and the structure of his overall wrist.

While Beckham continued punching Berg, replicating what Berg did to him the night before, he couldn't help but have a wide grin on his face. Then eventually, Berg stopped responding. So he stopped as he didn't feel as much enjoyment anymore. All the while, Frei could only watch biting his lips and the wounds, and bruises on his body pounded in response to the beating. He felt anger yet afraid, he wanted to come out of the cabinet yet his body refused to. 'What use would that be?' He thought, trying to justify his passivity. 

"I want the boy too. How much would he be, for a night?" Beckham asked the old man sitting against the wall beside him. "A night won't hurt right? He's the reason I became this way."

"As long as you don't do anything like what you did before." the old man said huskily. "I deeply despise those who do those things."

Beckham nodded, and went up the staircase, to go get Frei. While the old man waited.

Frei remained motionless within the cabinet shelf, nervous of what was about to come to him. He began thinking of ways he could avoid it, but as long as the old man was there, besides the entrance, there was little to nothing he could do to escape. He moved subtly for comfort in the tight space of the cabinet, which caused a faint creak, notifying the room of his presence. Then immediately after, he felt a sudden chill, as he saw the eyes of the old man staring directly at him. The light that reflected off the old man's eyes resembled the eyes of a predator.

"I see, so It wasn't my imagination. That means it hasn't caught up with me yet, I can do another round." The old man said. "I hate disobedience the most." As he scooched himself up from the wall and walked towards the cabinet, at Frei.