A priest stepped forward with a thick book bound in dark leather , the Book of the Law. He flipped through its pages slowly, like my life was just another line in a long list of punishments.
The crowd held its breath.
Then he spoke.
"According to the law," he said loudly, "the boy Andre is not to be executed."
A ripple passed through the crowd.
For a moment… just a moment… I thought I might live.
But the priest raised his hand for silence.
"Instead," he continued, "he shall be thrown into the Dungeon of Razak."
The crowd erupted.
Cheers.
Roars.
People clapped like they had just been given a festival.
My stomach sank.
An abomination must not be killed by pure hands."
The square fell silent.
"An abomination may only be destroyed by another abomination."
My chains were tightened.
"Send him to the dungeon."
A murmur of fear spread through the crowd.
"To Razak…"
"The Flesh Eater…"
Even the guards hesitated.
"If he survives," the priest said coldly,
"then the Creator himself has judged him."
I was dragged away as Carlos finally looked at me.
Our eyes met.
He was smiling as I felt pain, pain that I won't be able to get my revenge, pain that I was treated unjustly.
Beneath the city, the gates opened.
Darkness breathed back at us.
Chains fell away.
The door slammed shut.
And from the dungeon, something growled.
The dungeon was cold.
Not just cold in temperature but in spirit.
The walls were slick with something that wasn't water.
Chains hung like decorations, rusted and broken, some still twitching as if remembering their owners.
The air was thick, heavy, suffocating every breath tasted like rot and despair.
This was where hope came to die.
I was pushed forward and the gates slammed shut behind me.
Silence.
Then footsteps.
From the shadows emerged a figure.
Small.
Fragile.
An old man, hunched over, walking with a slow, uneven step.
I blinked.
This was Razak?
I had expected something massive.
Something monstrous.
Something worthy of fear.
I didn't move.
If this was death, then so be it.
The old man stopped a few steps away and studied me.
His eyes narrowed.
"How disappointing."
His voice was calm but sharp.
"You don't scream."
"You don't beg."
"You don't even try to run."
I said nothing.
"I hate that," he continued.
"If you're going to die, at least be interesting."
Still I didn't respond.
The old man sighed.You were expecting something else?"
"If you're him," I said tiredly, "just kill me and get this over with."
The old man smiled.
Not cruelly.
Almost… amused.
"Not so easy," he said. "You should at least try to be entertaining. Run. Shout. Beg for mercy."
He sighed dramatically.
"But you're already broken." He shook his head. "That's disappointing."
He sat down across from me like we were two men meeting in a quiet tavern.
"Tell me your story," he said.
I stared at him.
"What?"
"Tell me your story before I tear you apart."
Something in his tone wasn't hunger.
It was curiosity.
So I spoke.
I told him everything.
About Mama struggling to breathe.
About the man in purple who said she deserved to die.
About the temple laughing at me.
About stealing the box.
About Carlos.
About Pedro hitting the stone.
When I finished, the dungeon felt even quieter than before.
My voice cracked but I didn't cry.
Razak watched me closely.
Not smiling.
Not moving.
"Bitterness," he murmured.
"It suits you."
"Does it matter?" I asked.
"I'm still here. Waiting to die."
For a moment I thought I saw sympathy in his eyes.
I laughed bitterly.
"Just kill me," I said. "I know where this is going."
He leaned forward slightly.
"What if," he said slowly, "there was a way for you to get revenge?"
My head snapped up.
"What?"
"If you could punish them," he continued softly. "The man in purple. The priests. Carlos."
My chest tightened.
"What would you do?"
The anger that had been buried inside me erupted like fire.
"I would rip their hearts out," I said through clenched teeth. "I would make them feel pain worse than death. I would cut them into a million pieces."
The old man smiled.
A wide, knowing smile.
"You and I," he said quietly, "are very much the same."
He stood up.
"I think I'll take you out of here."
I laughed
.The old man tilted his head.
"What if I told you… there is a way out?"
I laughed harder.
"This is a prison," I said.
"Even gods rot here."
I didn't finish my sentence.
The dungeon vanished.
I stood somewhere else.
The ground beneath me pulsed like living flesh.
Screams echoed from every direction agony layered upon agony.
The sky was not a sky at all, but a swirling abyss of fire and shadow.
I staggered back.
The old man stood before me again.
But he was no longer small.
He was magnificent.
Wings of shadow stretched wide behind him.
His presence bent reality itself.
His eyes burned like fallen stars.
He laughed and the sound echoed endlessly through the realm.
"Now… this is better."
He spread his arms.
This," he continued calmly, "is the upside-down of your world."
He looked straight into my eyes.
And smiled.
"Welcome to Hades."
"I am Azazel."
"One of the Seven Demon Lords of Hell."
"Servant to the Seven Princes."
His smile darkened.
"I am the one who refused to bow to the one they all bow to.They call me the Fallen Monarch."
He stepped closer to me.
"I see your soul, Andre."
"Your bitterness. Your hatred. Your hunger for revenge."
"I see a man who prayed and was ignored."
"A son who begged and was denied."
"A brother who watched innocence die in his arms."
His voice lowered, rich and poisonous.
"The world teaches obedience, yet rewards cruelty."
"It demands loyalty, yet offers betrayal."
"It breaks men like you and then calls you broken."
His voice softened but only slightly.
"The world chewed you up and spat you out."
"They chained you. Starved you. Lied to you."
"And when you broke… they blamed you for it."
He circled me slowly.
"They hide behind law, behind faith, behind false gods."
"But you know the truth now."
"There is no justice only power."
His eyes burned brighter.
"They deserve punishment."
"They deserve to feel every hunger they fed you."
"Every chain they placed upon your wrists."
"We should pile their bodies to the skies…"
"And build a throne upon their bones."
The screams grew louder.
"No one will stop us if you agree."
He extended a hand.
"Give me your heart."
"Give me all your desires."
"Your rage. Your grief. Your vengeance."
"And everything you've ever wanted… will be yours."
I looked at his hand.
Then I smiled.
Not a broken smile.
Not a desperate one.
A calm one.
"I already agreed," I said softly.
"From the very beginning."
Azazel's laughter shook all of Hell
" You and I just formed an unholyunion."
"Tu alma mìa"(your soul is mine)