Chained like a slave.

Alone, forsaken, engulfed by darkness.

The chains binding the boy's wrists, have long since eaten into his skin and flesh, but he clearly no longer cared. The sensations in his hands has long since left him. A small mercy, almost like a blessing, given how deeply the chains have cut.

The boy, oblivious to his own bleeding knees from him trashing against the hard ground, didn't even notice the countless cuts, tears, and bruises marring his barely-healing body

I almost miss the days of active torment. This void I've been trapped in is just empty and dark. Why did they decide to put me here? They never uttered a word as they carved into my flesh and chained me up here.

Isolated in the darkness, the boy knew nothing but the void and the periodic waves of agonizing pain. It drowns out everything else.

The boy's body grew numb to the cuts and bruises, to the burning and prodding, but this pain is different. It overshadows everything else, a relentless tide that floods everything. As if the pain attacks not just the body, but his mind and soul too.

And so, the pain begins. Spreading from the boy's chains, moving from his wrists throughout his whole body and intensifying into a blinding, searing agony that commands his entire being.

I've tried everything. From screaming my lungs out, to begging for the relief, to just simply trying to ignore all the pain. No one answers, and no one appears anymore.

Now the only choice left, is to laugh.

It's a welcoming feeling, this feeling of burning. A distraction from the void that surrounds me. Oh, how it makes me laugh. Pain, I've never felt such an experience, nothing like the boring void!

Pain is better than the void after all, each and every single time.

His laughter echoes in the pure emptiness for just a moment.

To him, it was a glorious sound.

The only sound in this emptiness, and at the same time, it was far too loud, yet never enough. The void swallows the sound soon enough.

His body convulses, ensnared by pain. Beads of sweat clings to his skin, the cold air gnawing at his drenched form. Each wave crashes over him until numbness creeps back in, and the abyss swallows him entirely.

A place without memories, where only darkness persists... and he's forever alone, at the heart of the void.

A resurgence of pain jerks him back to consciousness. It builds up to intolerable agony before the void's cold embrace takes him again.

Again and again, the cycle repeat and repeats itself. His own body becomes an endless loop of agony. A ceaseless repetition that retreats into the void, each episode bluring into the next.

In this desolate existence, time loses all meaning here. Only the pain alone, could bring back the boy from losing himself to the void.

I'm tired, so tired of this hollow existence, but I just can't control it anymore. Is there even any food or water here? No sweet release of death, only the pain and the void.

I'm trapped in this darkness, caught in a cycle of suffering. Longing for release from the chains that bind both my body and soul to this perpetual torment.

And still, the cycle continues to go on.

The frigid air of the void continued to cause the boy's body to shiver uncontrollably.

At least the cold is different from the cycle, like a little witness to an unending struggle, right?

An eternity is spent between the pain and the void.

Again, and again, and again, and again...

Once more, I find myself trapped in this torturous pattern. Void, pain, void, pain—a relentless sequence that offers no respite from my existence.

I kept losing myself in this cycle.

And it continues, on and on.

The eternal dance persists, the void claiming him, only to be broken by the returning surges of pain.

Pain, void, pain, void, pain, void, pain, void.... on and on it goes.

I scream, cry, plead, laugh and bear it silently. Time and time again, the cycle returns relentlessly, but it's all meaningless. My life becomes a blur, an endless sequence blending into a bewildering tapestry.

Nothing changes, regardless of my actions.

Over and over, the cycle repeats itself.

Time is meaningless, life becomes futile. Only the cycle remains, echoing in his mind.

Pain, void, pain, void, pain, void, pain, void, pain, void, pain, void....

The boy's hand shook uncontrollably, as he thought. Death would surely be a blessing, a relief. But of course, there's no end, only the cycle.

Pain, void, agony, emptiness, pain, void, agony, emptiness, pain, void, agony, emptiness, pain, void, agony, emptiness, pain, void, agony, and pure emptiness...

Why am I truly here? Is this truly my fate? Is this what life should be?

Pain, void, pain, void, pain, void, pain, void, pain, void, pain, void, pain, void, pain, void, pai-

The boy attempted to bite his own tongue in defiance, but his restraints seem to sense his rebellion. A new sensation comes flooding back, invading his senses.

An invasive feeling that simply makes him feel impure, tainted.

Suddenly he himself couldn't control his body, it revolts and in the end, he couldn't bring himself to bite down. He tried and tried, but he couldn't fight against the magic holding his very being.

I c-can't anymore. I simply give up. You win now okay? You and him—or maybe, she and her... It wins again and again.

The agony and torment returns. Nothing ever changes, and of course... the cycle continues.

The boy can no longer think. His mind has become as empty as the void that surrounds him. He no longer pays any attention to the cold, the twitching, the spasming or the agony that triggers in his broken body anymore.

The cycle is everlasting, and a faint little voice echoes in my head, narrating my existence now that I'm no longer capable. Or maybe the voice's mine? It doesn't matter, does it?

Pain, VOID, AGONY, VOID, PAin, Void, PAIn, void, Agony, PAIN, void, PAIN, PAIN, PAIN, PAIN, PAIN, PAIN, PAIN, PAIN, PAIN, PAIN....

Finally, I begin to notice a difference. The pain has become a constant.

I almost begin to enjoy it, to welcome it. Perhaps this pain, this agony, is better than the void.

The voice in my head sounds almost gleeful. Stronger.

PAIN, PAIN, PAIN, AGONY, PAIN, PAIN, PAIN, AGONY, PAIN, PAIN, PAIN, AGONY, PAIN...

I'm drained... My energy, my strength, everything. I have no control over anything. I think I've soiled myself again, but it hardly matters now.

But once again, I was wrong—always wrong. Pain is still pain, and the void would be a relief from this burning torment. Anything to end the pain.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Only pain is left, and even death has denied to me.

PAIN, PAIN, PAIN, PAIN, PAIN, PAIN, PAIN, PAIN, void, void, void, pai... p-pa... no—VOID, VOID, VOID, VOID, VOId, VOid, Void....

The world shifts again, the voice warping and changing.

Slowly I notice a change, a new one. I no longer feel pain and agony. The cold, I... Don't feel it anymore. My body still twitches again, but I can't feel its touch. I have no control, but at least the pain is gone.

Now, only the void remains. Only the blessed void...

Was I always meant to be alone and broken in this emptiness, has anyone else suffered the exact same thing? Was I the only one meant for this?

VOID, VOID, VOID, VOID, VOID, VOID, VOID, VOID, VOID, VOID, VOId, VOid, Void, Voi... vo... li... igh... li-ligh... light... Light, Light.

LIGHT!

LIGHT!

LIGHT!

The voice in my head seems to scream, drowning out everything else. Then it goes silent, as if it never existed. Perhaps it was just me?

The boy's numb, and broken mind takes time to notice the change.

There is light in the void. Maybe.... N-no... No, There is only the void.... But, i-is the void truly all that exists out there?

No! Of course not!

May-maybe there is truly light in the void! A small, fragile glimmer that burns away the dark void.

Never have I seen anything so beautiful as the small light. And I feel something—something more different. Something other than void. Something I'd forgotten existed.

I struggle with the word. Have I maybe just, simply forgotten?

I kept thinking and thinking, slowly....

The little light has driven back the void. It has given me... what?

Still, I kept on struggling to put words to this feeling. It feels so hard to think. To feel. Has the void really devoured my feelings?

Wh-what is it?

I feel like I should know this by know, but should I really? Why would I know? There's only the void. Nothing else.... right?

But no, of course not! A glimmer pierces the void!

But why is there light?

Why do I keep feeling this way? What is this?

What and why? WHAT? WHY? WHAT? WHAT? WHAT? WHY? WHY?...

I nearly lost myself again. But somehow, I don't.

Because light exists in the void.

It arrives unexpectedly. A flash of clarity. Of insight. As if his mind offers an answer it didn't know it had.

This feeling... I know what it is now.

Hope! I feel hope!

Hope! The most precious emotion, the only feeling I know right now!

The pain fades, and the fog in his mind retreats...

Light has given me hope! Hope that there is more than the void! More than just, pure pain.

The boy began to remember, and the memories starts to surface.

It starts off with faint echoes of comfort and security. Of sunlight on his skin. The sounds of birds. Visions of green grass. All things he had forgotten in the void. All the things the void ate away.

Hope has brought back a part of himself. And the void trembles with the power of the tentative memories. The boy had remembered a different time. A time when he wasn't alone in the void.

Glimpses of laughter, a home. Of beaming faces. Of people. Of safety. The feeling of a warm embrace. A gentle kiss upon his forehead. Soothing words gently murmured.

But who are these people truly? Th-they're... Those who will never, ever harm me... They're my parents!

Everything rushes back to me now! It's because of the light in the void and the hope within it, isn't it?!

And I finally remembered all of it! My memory, it's... simply a wonderful bliss!

For a heavenly moment, there is no void! No pain! Only the happiness that fills me with those incredible memories!

Until the light in the void goes out, until it simply vanishes completely.

It takes a moment for the boy to process.

But the light was utterly gone, and hope shatters.

The void rushes back. But not before he'd recall one more memory.

One that isn't filled with happiness like before.

Crimson stains coating the front door of the boy's home. So much red inside. .. such a vibrant red. Why is it so red?

It's all blood...

On the kitchens table, the boy saw his father's head, stained with a dark liquid. His eyes staring emptily, as if accusing him. Nearby, his mother lies on the floor, her body twisted unnaturally. She clutches a knife in her hand, which seemed like a last desperate attempt at self-defense.

Unseen hands grips the boy's throat, holding him still. Figures with masks and hoods, covered in the blood of his parents, surrounded him.

They remained silent as they took him away, as they took his life away.

At first, they hid in the shadows of their disguises, blurring the line between torture and inquiry. But to me, it was all the same.

All I did was embrace the numbness, becoming what's called, an 'observer' of my very own suffering.

Eventually, only the cold embrace of his chains remains.

Alone in darkness, a new cycle began. Pain and the emptiness. Different, yet familiar. The all-encompassing pain. The all-devouring void. There was utterly zero escape.

And now, the cycle begin anew.

Except now, it changed. The cycle has a new flavor, a constant called despair. Then the void comes. A blessed oblivion. Except, it was no longer empty. A stubborn memory of light lingers.

Now the cycle is unbearable, because I remembered the light, the hope, and the despair. The memory lingers, making all the previous torture pale in comparison.

I continued to remember. A home... a family. Only to forget, that's completely lost, now.

Forever.

Memory, it's such a simple thing. Something that everyone has. But now, it brings me nothing but anguish.

The despair triggers another memory. Of a story the boy once heard while visiting the village with his parents.

I believe it was a... sunny day. Hands. I was holding my parents hands. I felt safe and warm.

I remember a bard in colorful clothes, wearing a funny... y-yes, a funny, feathered hat. He told a story of Rahgan, a famous sea wanderer.

His story was quite sad, wasn't it? Rahgan had lost everything he loved. The weight was too much, too heavy to carry—his grief, his pain.

And one night, he stood at the edge of a cliff, ready to end his suffering... To go inside the void.

As the darkness closed in, something from the shadows responded to his plea. It offered to take away his pain, promising complete freedom.

Freedom? I've always wondered. If all those stories were really true, then maybe—just maybe. Someone could take my burden too.

Just like that thing that relieved Rahgan of his small, little grief.

But even though his pain was gone, so was his humanity. Would I too, become a hollow shell trapped in the emptiness, just like Rahgan?

Or am I already lost in that emptiness?

That was the only story I asked my parents to read when I wanted to sleep. I too, always wanted to know more about Rahgan's fate.

It was still a captivating tale, the best I'd ever heard.

Yet it wasn't just a single story. It grew into something even greater.

More similar tales had found their way into the village over time. Traveling bards, laughing along the way, sharing such stories of great heroes, each following a similar pattern.

But I always wondered why they kept on leaving Rahgan's transformation out. They turned it into something more... enjoyable. Y-yes, that's what my parents always told me.

But I'd always remembered all those stories. Help offered to those desperate enough to ask. To those who truly needed it.

When all else fails, cry out for help, and something will hear you.

What did I have left to lose, even if I plead for help?

And so, it took several tries for the boy to form a sound.

"Pl-" A coughing fit interrupted him.

The boy stared blankly at his hands.

Blood... again? Though, he never truly felt anything. It takes time to subside, leaving him utterly drained.

But the memories burns bright, the stories he had heard in a happier time. The void threatens to smother them. Oblivion awaits once again.

This is my only chance before my mind slips away. I just need to keep it simple. N-nothing extra.

The boy's broken, hoarse voice barely carried. "H-help."

The sound escapes the small boy, weak and feeble. Completely pitiful. It was a broken whisper lost in the endless void, swallowed whole.

W-was that just all in my head? The boy's very own mind—his senses, was long past their limits, no longer possible of separating the truth from illusion.

The void feels more oppressive. Somehow even more emptier than before.

Has the void heard yet? The boy thought as he chewed his lip, anxiety creeping into his voice. Have I angered it? A shudder ran through him. I hope not... but how could it get even worse than it already is?

Does it matter though? How could anything hear me here? This is the void—only pain and despair exist. Why would anything care? Despair is all I have, isn't it? All the memory has faded already. I doubt I could try pleading again, even if I remembered how.

But something finally heard his plea.

At first, it was simply just a feeling. Then a faint sound reaches the boy, and light flashes. The boy flinched, his eyes closing against the sudden brightness in this dark world. The light vanishes, and despair floods back stronger than ever.

Not again. I can't do this again. Please. I was wrong, the void really can be so much worse. False hope makes everything more painful.

I’m begging you all, please. You have to forgive me, right? Isn’t that the law? You must accept the mistakes of someone who has apologized…

Isn't that right?

Then he finally heard it—soft and faint footsteps. A familiar washes over the boy. It's hope again? N-no this time, it's something greater. It’s real, and genuine hope. Is this another trick from my mind?

He sensed a presence before him. Though he lacked the strength to see who or what it was, his insides churned as hope surged within him, so intense he felt he might burst.

Something heard! The stories, it was true! something really came!

But are they here to really help? What if it's something evil? What if it's something worse than the void and its cycle? Worse than the pain and despair?

However, his doubts fade quickly. A calm, soothing voice echoes, refusing to vanish into the void. The emptiness quaked, trying to drown out the sound, but it ultimately failed. The voice was undoubtedly stronger.

It was such a soothing sound—calm and clear. The sound of hope...

The voice spoke gently, "Do you wish to live? To rediscover the thrill and joy in every heartbeat?"

These were the first words he had heard in an eternity. A perfect sound for his weary soul. Not too harsh, not too soft. Just right.

"Despite all the pain and suffering that has befallen you, do you still find the will to cling onto life? To move forward towards a life beyond this oppressive regime?" The voice echoed in the silence, its question hanging in the air.

The boy's throat tightened, his voice emerging hoarse. "Y-yes." It feels like the right answer. Even without the memories, something inside tells him that living simply felt right.

Without hesitation, the gravelly voice retorted, "Alright then, what's the point of living in solitary here? Walk away from all this and never look back. I promise, I'll never carve at you mercilessly."

The chains around the boy's wrists weakens, fallling away. For the first time he can recall, he is free.

The boy stumbled, but a strong, gentle arms caught him. Normally, the sudden touch would make him flinch, but he was simply too weak. He couldn’t remember a time when a touch wasn’t painful, but now he was held in his savior’s embrace.

The boy fought against the sudden wave of sleepiness. "Thank... y-" he whispered, his words trailing off as exhaustion overtook him.

This feeling... this feeling of safety I've lacked for so long. Snuggled in his arms and wrapped in his cloak, the feeling of sleeping peacefully for the first time in eternity.

The warmth... his warmth