Story 444: The Cell of Despair

The stone door behind them sealed with a loud thud, cutting off any hope of retreat. The team stood in the center of the foreboding cell, lit dimly by flickering candles affixed to the cold, damp walls. The silence was thick, save for the occasional rattle of the rusty shackles lying abandoned on the floor.

“This room isn’t just a prison,” Ghost said, scanning the walls with his night-vision goggles. “It’s a psychological trap. Something about it feels... wrong.”

Viper crouched near the shackles, her hand hovering over them. “These chains have seen centuries of torment. There’s an aura—something ancient and vile.” She withdrew her hand quickly, sensing a dark energy pulsing faintly.

Rook stepped forward, the tactical light on his rifle illuminating faint carvings on the walls. “Shadow, what do you make of this?”