Even her gaze was so cold and cruel that it could murder someone; just thinking about it gave him the chills.
'Looks like that kid will suffer a bit too much tonight. I need to prepare some extra ointment.' The old servant muttered under his breath, clutching the small wooden box of salves and bandages tighter against his chest as he approached the annex. His steps grew heavier the closer he drew, his ears catching the echoes that seeped through the cracks of the weathered warehouse door.
As the servant got closer to the warehouse, the more he could hear the cruel laughter coming from inside. It wasn't the laughter of amusement but of domination, of someone reveling in another's misery.
Inside, the air reeked of rust and damp, the smell of old wood mixing with something coppery. The flickering light of a single lantern swung overhead, throwing erratic shadows across the walls. The sound of metal chains scraping against stone punctuated the silence, followed by muffled whimpers.
