Third Person (POV)
The gilded cage had become a prison of isolation and despair. Hazel, his voice reduced to a hoarse whisper, spent his days pacing the opulent halls like a caged animal. The silence was a constant torment, broken only by his own desperate cries for help that echoed unanswered within the walls.
One day, his pleas reached the ears of a kind watchman who had grown increasingly concerned about Hazel's well-being. Driven by a sense of compassion, the watchman risked his livelihood to sneak a phone into Hazel's room.
Hazel, his heart pounding in his chest, dialed the only number he could remember - his parents. The familiar voice of his mother filled his ears, a beacon of hope in the suffocating darkness. He poured out his heart, detailing the torment he endured, the physical and psychological abuse he was subjected to.
But before he could say more, a chilling silence descended. The door creaked open, revealing Evelyn, her face contorted in a mask of rage. In a single, swift movement, she snatched the phone and slammed it against the wall, shattering it into a thousand pieces.
The watchman, caught in the act of aiding Hazel, became the target of Evelyn's fury. She lunged at him, a wild, animalistic glint in her eyes. Hazel watched in horror as she unleashed a torrent of blows, punctuated by screams that echoed through the halls.
When the watchman finally fell, still and lifeless, a wave of terror washed over Hazel. He was trapped, alone, with a woman who had proven herself capable of unspeakable cruelty.
The following day, the gilded cage transformed into a panopticon. Cameras sprouted on every wall, mercilessly recording Hazel's every move. His privacy, his last shred of dignity, was ripped away.
Evelyn, reveling in her absolute control, devised new ways to torment him. She locked him in the bathroom, a haven for countless cockroaches that scurried and skittered across the floor, triggering his deepest phobias. His screams for help were met with a chillingly calm smile from Evelyn, who observed his suffering with a morbid fascination.
Fear became Hazel's constant companion, a gnawing presence that eroded his sanity. He jumped at shadows, flinched at every sound, his nerves stretched to their limit.
One day, the fear reached its peak. The relentless terror, coupled with the lack of food and sleep, finally broke him. He collapsed, his body convulsing, his mind consumed by a swirling vortex of terror.
Evelyn, with a twisted sense of duty, rushed him to the hospital. As he lay on the sterile bed, surrounded by concerned medical staff, a flicker of hope sparked within him. Perhaps, just perhaps, he would finally be free from her grasp.
But Evelyn, ever the master manipulator, had other plans. She put on a convincing performance, feigning concern and affection for her ailing husband. She spun a web of lies, painting Hazel as a troubled man who needed her care and supervision.
The medical staff, unaware of the true horrors behind the gilded walls, bought her story hook, line, and sinker. They released Hazel back into Evelyn's custody, sealing his fate once again.
As they left the hospital, Hazel looked at Evelyn, her eyes filled with a cunning glint. He knew then that the game was far from over. He was trapped in a twisted reality, a living nightmare orchestrated by a woman he once loved. The fight for his sanity, for his life, had just begun.