Hell!
Everyone has their own idea of what hell is supposed to look like.
Some think it's a dark pit where the wicked are punished forever. Others imagine a world of fire and screams, where sinners pay for their crimes.
But to Tyler Lockwood, hell wasn't a distant place that people feared after death.
It was here. Now.
It was his life.
If hell was meant for sinners, then Tyler wanted to ask what sin had he committed? What evil had he done to deserve this torment?
He wanted answers. If there was an expert somewhere who could tell him what he had done wrong, he would gladly listen.
At the very least, he deserved to know why. Why him?
If he knew the reason, maybe the pain would hurt less.
Every day, the Magus of Vermont Kingdom came to his cell. His body was tied up, hung from the ceiling with iron chains that bit into his skin.
They came once a day. They would tear his flesh open with a knife, chanting strange words that only made the pain worse and kept the wound fresh.
They drained him of his blood, treating him like a human container.
It was torture. Real, endless torture.
So please, someone, anyone, tell him what he did wrong! Why did they do this to him? What sin could ever deserve this kind of punishment?
The first day, Tyler thought he would die. The pain was unbearable. He screamed until his voice cracked, and he fainted before it ended.
The second day was no better.
The third, the fourth, the fifth, it just never stopped.
Day after day, the same routine. They would cut him, chant, and drain him.
But he wasn't alone.
Every time his turn ended, he could hear screams from other cells.
He wasn't the only one. There were others too, others crying, shouting, begging just like he once did.
Were they his classmates? Or strangers?
Tyler didn't even want to know anymore. He didn't care. He only wished it would stop. He would do anything, anything to be set free.
Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months.
It had been more than seventy days when Great Magus Gulepas appeared again. If wasn't often he followed the other Magus, but when he did, Tyler always hoped maybe, just maybe he would get an answer.
That day, after being drained once again, Tyler used the last of his strength to whisper, "Why?"
His voice was weak, barely audible. But his heart screamed louder than his throat ever could.
This wasn't what he was promised. None of this was.
They said he and his classmates were summoned to be heroes. That they were chosen. That they would become powerful protectors of the kingdom.
Heroes.
Yet here he was, hanging from a ceiling, covered in scars, drained like a corpse that refused to die.
He didn't feel like a hero.
So why? Why did they lie to him? Why bring him here just to do this to him?
Great Magus Gulepas stopped near the cell door and looked at him with calm, lifeless eyes.
"Many are born lucky," the Magus said, "while few are born unlucky. Blame your luck for what you're going through now."
Then he left, not even looking back.
And with that, the truth finally sank in.
Tyler had always been unlucky. That was it.
Everything that happened to him.
Getting bullied by John, humiliated, enslaved, and now this! It all came down to bad luck.
Tyler had drawn the short end of the stick since birth.
It was so simple, it almost made him laugh.
The world was unfair. It didn't matter how kind or hardworking someone was. Some people were born under a shining star, while others, like him, were born in the shadows.
So this was his fate.
Tyler lowered his head, his body limp from exhaustion. The pain was constant, yet somehow, it no longer felt sharp. It was dull, distant, almost normal.
He understood now.
He was unlucky. And there was no changing that.
He should just accept it.
[You're a real disappointment, you know that?]
The sudden voice made him twitch slightly. It was faint but clear.
He didn't know where it came from. His head was too heavy to lift, his eyes half-closed.
[Seriously? You're just going to give up because some old man told you you're unlucky?]
Tyler didn't answer. His lips trembled, but no words came out.
[Wow. That's sad,
Maybe the old man was right. Maybe you are unlucky. If you had even a bit of luck, you wouldn't be hanging here like this, weak and pathetic]
The voice sounded familiar, but his mind was too foggy to place it.
[Take a good look at me]
The voice continued.
[I've got all the luck in the world. I'm free. I can move, fight, live, do whatever I want. You? You can't even lift your head]
Tyler forced his eyes open, fighting against the fog that clouded his vision. He scanned the room.
No one was there.
The cell was dark, empty, and silent, except for the dripping of water and his own ragged breathing.
He was hallucinating. It had to be.
Still, the words stung.
Tyler wanted to scream back, to tell that voice to shut up, but he couldn't. His throat was dry, and even if he had the strength, what was the point?
He was tired. So tired.
And so, his endless routine continued.
Every day, the Magus came to take his blood. Every day, he endured the same pain, the same cuts, the same suffering.
They would feed him just enough to keep him alive but never enough to help him recover. It was like they wanted him to stay weak forever.
And it worked.
He was too weak to fight back, too broken to resist. Even his will to escape had died long ago.
He was their tool. Nothing more.
Time became meaningless. Days blended together. He couldn't tell if it was day or night anymore.
He had given up struggling. He had given up on hope.
[Seriously, dude. You're still here?]
The voice again.
Tyler's eyes slowly opened. He hadn't heard it in months, and now it was back.
He blinked, trying to focus. His mind was hazy, but he could tell it wasn't just in his head this time.
The voice came again, this time clearer, sharper, and closer.
[Man, you really don't give up on being miserable, huh?]
Tyler slowly lifted his head, his chains clinking softly.
He froze.
Right before his eyes, staring at him with a smirk, was a figure he could hardly believe was real.
It was someone Tyler Lockwood knew.
And the shock of seeing that face nearly stopped his heart.