This chapter is only for readers 18+ and contains disturbing scenes. Please read it at your own risk.
I found the first prisoner hidden in a utility room. His eyes were filled with terror when he saw me.
He was about to try something, perhaps to flee, but I didn't give him time to do anything: I grabbed him by the throat, squeezing until he stopped moving.
I couldn't afford to be merciful, and so every prisoner had to be killed without a moment of hesitation.
Continuing on, I found two more prisoners in the abandoned cells.
They were completely focused on digging a way out, which made them unaware of my presence.
That caused their deaths: with cold precision, I plunged the knife into the first one's neck, then the second tried to scream, but I stopped him immediately, slitting his throat.
Blood flowed copiously, but silence reigned supreme once more.
Every move I made was calibrated, every strike lethal, a macabre ballet performed with icy precision.
The common areas of the prison had become my personal hunting ground, where I could continuously kill my prey.
In fact, several prisoners gathered there, seeking refuge in groups, making themselves easier targets.
I found them hiding in the dining hall, crouched behind overturned tables.
I threw a piece of metal against a wall, creating a noise that immediately caught their attention.
When they turned towards the sound, I pounced on them with silent fury, starting to use an old chair as a weapon.
I broke it over the first one's head, then used one of the sharp fragments to stab the second in the heart.
The third prisoner, though he tried to escape, was discovered by me, hitting him directly in the back, leaving him to fall to the ground with a muffled scream.
The main corridor was now stained with blood, with bodies scattered like macabre trophies of my hunt.
I moved quickly, without hesitation.
Every blow was precise, and every action proved lethal: I had become a death machine, appearing as its apostle.
The prisoners began to realize they had no escape. Panic and terror in this case became my greatest allies.
Fear started spreading among them like an epidemic, paralyzing them completely, making them easy prey for my ruthless hunt.
In one of the side corridors, I found a group of four prisoners.
They were frantically discussing, also trying to figure out how they could escape.
I used an old metal pipe to hit the first one on the head, leaving him stunned on the ground.
The other three turned towards me, but their reaction was slow, and with lethal agility, I faced them one by one.
The second prisoner tried to grab me, but I pushed him against a broken glass wall, impaling him.
The third tried to run away, but I caught up with him and snapped his neck with a quick, decisive move.
The fourth prisoner, now paralyzed by fear, tried to defend himself with a piece of wood, but I took the weapon from him and hit him repeatedly until he stopped moving.
Once this was done, I approached each of them to ensure they were dead.
While those who were stunned had gotten up.
The air in the prison was thick with tension, every corner hiding potential threats.
As I advanced down a corridor, I discovered a prisoner wandering disoriented.
He had just taken a hard blow to the head and could barely stand, staggering, with a vacant and lost look.
I approached silently, my shoes making no sound on the dirty floor.
The prisoner, stunned and confused, didn't notice my presence until I was upon him.
I grabbed his head with both hands and pushed it forcefully against the concrete wall, feeling the dull impact of the skull against the hard surface.
His body gave way, slowly sliding towards the floor. His eyes were wide open, his breath labored.
I lifted him again, this time grabbing him by the collar of his worn-out shirt, and dragged him towards a rusty metal chair abandoned in a corner.
I threw him onto the chair with brutal force, tying his wrists with a rope found nearby.
The prisoner moaned, trying to recover, but his mind was still clouded from the initial blow.
I squatted in front of him, looking him in the eyes.
His expression shifted from confusion to pure terror as he realized he had no escape.
I picked up a broken piece of glass from the ground, a sharp fragment glistening in the dim light of the cell.
"There is no mercy for the weak," I whispered, slowly bringing the glass to his throat.
The prisoner tried to struggle, but his strength was nothing compared to my determination.
With a slow, almost deliberate movement, I drew the glass along his skin, creating a deep cut.
The blood began to gush, and his moans turned into muffled gurgles.
I continued to hunt them one by one, exterminating nearly all of them: only the last two prisoners remained.
I found the penultimate prisoner in the storage room, frantically rummaging through the shelves in search of a weapon.
I didn't give him time to defend himself. I grabbed him and slammed him against the wall, hitting him repeatedly until his body collapsed inert.
Every blow was charged with icy rage, every punch an expression of my relentless determination.
The last prisoner, now aware of his fate, tried to beg for mercy.
His words were a desperate whisper, but I knew I couldn't allow him to live.
With a sharp blow, I eliminated him, ending his life with the same brutal efficiency I had applied to the others.
Now, with all the prisoners dead, the prison was under my complete control.
Every corner, every corridor, every cell was now a monument to my determination and the change and adaptation I had undergone.
The true battle was over, but my vigilance could never waver.
I had become the master of my personal hell, ready to face any threat with relentless ferocity.
Every step I took echoed in the empty corridors, a constant reminder of my undisputed dominance.
The prison, once a place of chaos and despair, was now a realm of order and terror under my inflexible leadership.
My transformation from prey to predator was complete.
With the prisoners now defeated and killed, I was left only to maintain control, always ready to respond to new threats with the same brutality and determination that had led me to win this bloody battle.