Dixon emerged from the haunted room, his body battered and bruised, his mind scarred by the horrors he endured.
Three months of unrelenting torture at the hands of Axel's men had left him a shadow of his former self. But as he took his first steps into freedom, a fire ignited within him. A burning desire for revenge against Axel and Tamara, the ones responsible for his suffering.
Dixon's eyes still haunted by the memories of the haunted room, where he spent three months at the mercy of Axel's men.
The room was a torture chamber, designed to break the strongest of wills. Dixon was subjected to physical and psychological torment, his body and mind pushed to the limits of human endurance.
"I was a shadow of my former self," Dixon recalled, his voice barely above a whisper. "They broke me, piece by piece, until I was nothing but a hollow shell."
The walls of the room seemed to close in on him, the air thick with the stench of decay. Dixon was chained to the floor, unable to move, unable to escape. Axel's men took turns tormenting him, their faces twisted with cruel grins.
"You're nothing but a rat in a cage," one of them sneered, his voice echoing off the walls. "And we're the ones holding the keys."
Dixon's mind reeled, his thoughts consumed by the desire for revenge. He repeated a mantra to himself, a promise of retribution.
"I will make them suffer," he whispered, his voice growing stronger with each passing day. "I will destroy everything they hold dear."
The words became his driving force, his raison d'être. Dixon's obsession with revenge grew, fueling his determination to survive, to escape, and to make Axel and Tamara pay for their cruelty.
"I will show them no mercy," Dixon vowed, his eyes blazing with intensity. "They will beg for forgiveness, but it will be too late."
As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, Dixon's resolve only strengthened. He knew that to exact his revenge, he had to be cunning, ruthless, and relentless. He began to gather information, to learn everything he could about Axel's organization, to identify the weaknesses and exploit them.
"I will be their worst nightmare," Dixon promised himself. "I will haunt them, until they beg for mercy."
And so, Dixon's journey of revenge began, fueled by the memories of the haunted room, and the desire to make Axel and Tamara pay for their cruelty. He would stop at nothing, until he had claimed his vengeance, until he had destroyed everything they held dear.
Dixon's heart raced as he approached his apartment building, a sense of unease growing in the pit of his stomach. He hadn't been here in months, not since Axel's men had taken him away. But he had to come back, had to see it for himself.
As he stepped inside, a wave of familiarity washed over him. The same furniture, the same decor... but something was off. A faint scent of perfume lingered in the air, a scent that wasn't his.
Dixon's eyes narrowed as he moved deeper into the apartment. And then, he saw it, a notice that stated the house was no longer his
"This can't be," he whispered, his voice shaking with rage. "This is my home."
But it wasn't anymore. Tamara's touches were everywhere, her presence suffocating. Dixon felt like an intruder, a ghost haunting his own life.
He stumbled through the rooms, his mind reeling. How could they do this? How could they take everything from him?
"I'll show them," he whispered, his voice deadly calm. "I'll show them what it means to take everything from me."
And in that moment, Dixon's plan for revenge became crystal clear. He would take back what was his, no matter the cost. He would destroy Tamara and Axel.
The apartment, once his sanctuary, now became a symbol of his rage, a reminder of what he had lost. But Dixon vowed to reclaim it, to reclaim his life.
"I'll be back," he whispered, his eyes burning with determination. "And when I am, you'll know hell."