The hideout was a sickening scene that even the thunder outside didn't want to shed light on. The musty air reeked of sweat, blood, and decay. Valcroy arrived before it. Looking at the place, he wondered how it held itself in Glaciara. Shaking those thoughts out, he moved silently through the dim, flickering light.
"Ahhh.."
His steps paused when he heard the sounds of tortured moans mixing with the sickening squelch of wet footsteps. His eyes narrowed as he took in the grotesque sight before him—bodies hung from chains like ragged dolls, their faces twisted in agony or vacant from the shock of prolonged pain.
The dim atmosphere threw made it more horrific, listless faces of those who were still alive, hanging in a twisted and cruel torture The stench of death lingered in the air, thick and choking. Valcroy's fury grew as he entered.