The heavy wooden door clicked shut behind Carl, sealing Eirik in an oppressive silence that echoed against the stone walls of his prison. Darkness seeped into every crevice, and for a brief, chilling moment, Eirik felt as if he were lost in a nightmare that he could never wake from, surrounded by shadowed walls draped in velvety purples and suffocating gloom. His chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths, and though his mind screamed in defiance, his body betrayed him, limp, numb, paralyzed by the drug that Carl had forced upon him.
A single tear broke free, sliding down his cheek, the only act of rebellion he could muster. It was small, silent, but it bore the weight of his anguish, a testament to the silent war raging within. The tear traced a lonely path, falling onto the cold, unfeeling floor beneath him. This was his life now, bound and helpless, forced to endure Carl's cruel obsession.
