In the dimly lit and frigid cave nestled beneath the floor of the Zenith church, a solitary oil lamp flickered with an eerie glow, its flames fueled by dark magic.
Behind the cold iron bars, a huddled group of children, their ages varying from tender six-year-olds to slightly older, around eight or nine, cast sorrowful shadows on the damp walls. Bruises adorned their fragile bodies, their skin marred with the cruel imprints of abuse.
Some even bore broken limbs, a testament to the cruelty they had endured. Though their voices quivered with weakness, they summoned enough strength to cry out for salvation.
"Please! Please, someone, save us!" their desperate pleas echoed through the desolate cavern.
One young boy's cries escalated into uncontrollable sobs, his anguish reverberating through the air.
