His cell was black, totally enclosed, with no windows and no light to interrupt the choking darkness.
The only comforts were a crude toilet and a tiny fountain that supplied water. No mattresses, Just one blanket—nothing to make him feel any better. He wasn't solitary.
There was a woman present already. Middle-aged, her eyes tired but sharp, her hands wrinkled by hard work over the years. Her name was Amanda.
When the guards left, taking the torch with them to leave the room lit only by the faint glow of a far torch, she came quietly to his side, binding his wounds with strips of cloth. Her steps were slow, gentle, and softly comforting.
He curled into a corner, trembling, silent tears streaming down his face.
"Can you tell me your name?" Amanda said softly. He did not stir.
"So… how did you end up here?" she asked again. Her voice was soft, with concern, but he did not respond.
".Sorry I pushed you," she whispered, her voice fading in the damp gloom.
The guard tossed them a half of moldy bread the following day. Amanda divided it in half and offered some to him.
He snatched it eagerly, eating it with the desperation of one who'd had nothing but hunger for far too long.
"You resemble a wild animal eating that," Amanda whispered, her eyes brimmed with a soft smile of pity.
Night fell. Zaino slept in the corner, the tears still wet on his cheeks. Amanda covered him with a thin blanket, then bedded down to sleep herself, sitting up and watching him quietly through the dark night.
A few days later, guards returned and dragged Amanda away. Zaino didn't react initially. With each passing hour, concern gnawed at him. When she was shoved back into the cell, bruised body trembling, he rushed to her side, helpless to do anything.
"You don't have to worry about me," she whispered, attempting to muster a weak smile. "I got used to it."
He gave her water, helped her eat what little they gave them, and covered her with the blanket.
Two days later, she had some strength. Zaino asked, "Why were you beaten so badly?"
"This place," she said quietly, "we call it Hell."
He blinked confused.
"What do you mean 'we'? Are there others here?
"Yes," she replied, "but don't talk to anyone else. We're sold as prisoners—not for labor, not for work—but for the sins of others. The rich have their sins, and our lives are purchased to expiate them. Some of them don't make it. Some of them die, and some, like you, are fortunate."
"And you?" he asked gently.
She hesitated. "I was from a village called Vanleaf in the Oram Kingdom. I had a good husband, but he died from illness. The villagers accused me of being a witch.
They were going to burn me, but I escaped with the help of a friend… who later betrayed me and sold me to the man in black."
Zaino gripped her tightly, his tears flowing silently down his face. She hugged him in return, determined wet eyes. "Be ready," she whispered. "They will get you soon."
As predicted, they did. Guards arrived days later, dragging Zaino into a black room. Handcuffed to the wall, he hung there by wrists as a man entered, smiling like an animal.
Today's your first day," said the man. "We'll see how long it takes you to crack."
A whip lay on the table, curled and cruel. He tried to keep his head. Amanda's words were still with him: don't scream.
The blows landed. Agony tore through him relentlessly. He clenched his teeth initially and struggled.
By the fourteenth hit, his body could not keep it together, and a scream tore through him. The man laughed, a harsh, wicked sound. "I was waiting for that."
An hour afterwards, Zaino was dragged back to the cell, half-fainting. Amanda caught him as he toppled over, pulling up his shirt to examine the welts on his skin, her eyes wide but silently resolute.
She covered him with a blanket and sat beside him as he in and out of consciousness, each breath shallow, each thought confused with pain.
Nine years passed. Zaino was seventeen. He was covered in countless scars; his right arm was useless, patches of his hair were missing, and his eyes were sunken.
Amanda had endured the years with him, her physical body weak, but her will unbroken. She had listened to it all from him—the only one he trusted, the only one who could hear the horrors of his past without judgment.
Then the rations stopped. No guards came. No food arrived. The prisoners cried out, and no one answered. Starvation destroyed them brutally. In days, desperation became mad.
The weak and starved turned against each other, and the others were silent, punctuated only by weak cries.
Amanda went silent, locking herself in, until she returned to herself one morning. Zaino, awake, experienced strange noises in the cell. Moving shadows.
Sounds he could not interpret. A burning stinging in his arm. He struggled at the bonds, pounding heart with terror, but the blackness was relentless.
Time faded. Starvation, agony, and hopelessness intertwined. Zaino hardly remembered what it was to sleep, to feel, to hope.
He prayed if there's any god pls just kill me and free from his hell,
When finally the cell door opened, hands caught him, blindfolded him, dragged him out into sunlight. The sun was dazzling. He couldn't see.
His vision on the left eye was blury,
Ground fell away from him, and when he was seeing again, he was bound to a massive wooden beam. A crowd had gathered—men, women, even children.
A man dressed in black robe unroll a scroll. "The killer's name is unknown,"
He declared,he is the murderer
"He was guilty of murdering fifteen unarmed civilians.
His is centens to death—by burning alive.".
And after saying that he started the fire by casting a magic spell.
The fire was slowly getting bigger.
Than from the coward a rock was thrown at him,
It hits his head and started to drop blood.
A kid with teary eyes said go to hell you killer!!
You took my father way from!!!!
He looks at the boy and
says nothing,to him
He had nothing, Lose any more, he had accepted his fate.
He only looked up at the sky for one last moment of lucidity.
In his mind,
The world was cruel to me in the end when was about die and be free of this, I was framed as a murderer.
The flames grew, started consuming him.
There was a stir in the crowd, with some calling him a devil.
But he never reacted.
He simply gave in to the fire, letting the agony consume him without resistance,
the darkness that had defined his existence now finally fully consuming him.
When he was finished, all that remained was ash.
Everyone left like it was a normal day for them.
when his ash's fell to the ground,
Nobody cares about the fact that a man was burn alive.
Then zaino opens up his and sees he is some where else the sky is blue and and the ground is pure white.
He rubs his eyes he was confused what is even happening now and then he suddenly realises he has his hand back and also his eye and sees his body is fully recovered and wounds were left.
Then he sees something is coming from the sky he sees a bright light came Infront of him,
And stands Infront of him, a voice comes from it.
You must be Mr zaino.
.....
(Continues)