Chapter 11: The Lair of the Damned

On the twenty-first day of his investigation, Shin uncovered more and more about the Lichtenstein family and their unforgivable sins. With the aid of the restless spirits bound to the manor, he confirmed what he had long suspected. This house was not just a place of corruption; it was steeped in pure evil, and its inhabitants were beyond redemption.

The long-serving servants had grown numb to the horrors within these walls, counting the days until their inevitable fate. Those who dared to leave vanished without a trace, and some, overwhelmed by despair, chose to end their own lives. Others became accomplices to the family's cruelty, too fearful or broken to resist. Shin had seen this pattern before, oppression breeding submission, suffering shaping monsters. It made his resolve stronger.

For days, Shin had been purifying the spirits trapped in the manor, growing more exhausted with each passing night. The overwhelming stench of death clung to him, making his stomach churn. His quarters remained the only place untouched by the corruption, and he intended to keep it that way. Yet, the deeper he dug, the darker the truth became. He knew he had to uncover everything before making his final move.

During his rounds, something caught his eye in the kennels, a painting he hadn't noticed before. It depicted war dogs charging through an army, their fangs bared in vicious aggression. However, what irked him most was that the painting was slightly crooked, tilted to the left. Annoyed, he straightened it, only to hear the soft click of a hidden mechanism. A concealed compartment near the fireplace slid open, revealing a lever.

His brow furrowed in curiosity. After a quick glance around to ensure no one was watching, he pulled the lever. A hidden door creaked open within the fireplace itself, releasing a wave of death and decay into the room. He scanned his surroundings once more, checking for any prying eyes or familiars that might be lurking in the shadows. Satisfied that he was alone, he stepped into the concealed passage, sealing the door behind him.

Descending the dimly lit stairwell, he followed the overpowering scent of rot. When he reached the bottom, he pushed open another door and froze. Before him lay a vision of hell on earth.

Cages of all sizes filled the vast underground chamber. His sharp eyes, accustomed to the darkness, took in every gruesome detail. The air was thick with a foul mixture of musk, filth, and blood. His stomach twisted at the nauseating stench, but he pressed forward, careful to remain silent.

"What the hell is this place?" he whispered under his breath.

To his fortune, no guards or hounds patrolled the area. However, what he saw inside the cages turned his blood cold. Some contained massive war dogs, their eyes filled with madness as they gnawed on bones. Others held human prisoners, barely clinging to life, waiting for death to claim them. In one cage, a pack of dogs devoured a man alive, tearing his flesh apart as his screams of agony and twisted pleasure filled the chamber.

Shin’s eyes narrowed as he noticed the cruel enchantment placed upon the victims. The spell forced their bodies to regenerate, prolonging their suffering while filling them with an unnatural euphoria, turning their torment into ecstasy. A fate worse than death.

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He moved deeper into the chamber, his disgust growing with each step. In another section, he found something even more depraved, women being used as breeding stock. Bound and drugged, they were forced to couple with monstrous creatures known as Woldrats, a horrific fusion of dire wolves and rats. These beasts, known as Falspawn, had the intelligence of a predator and the instincts of a parasite, thriving in filth and darkness.

The Woldrats mated for weeks without stopping, their grotesque, knotted appendages ensuring complete insemination. The women, their minds broken by powerful spells, whispered words of love and devotion to their captors, unaware of their own torment. Their bellies swelled unnaturally as they carried litters of the creatures, birthing new generations of monstrosities. The newborns, driven by instinct, fought and devoured their weaker siblings, growing more feral with each passing day. When they reached adulthood, they would battle for dominance, the strongest among them claiming the right to breed and continue the horrifying cycle.

Shin could see the powerful runes etched into the cages, ensuring the creatures remained contained. The sheer level of corruption in this place was beyond anything he had imagined. The very air trembled with the restless spirits of the dead, their hatred and sorrow warping into something darker. Many were on the verge of becoming Azakashi, vengeful revenants that, if left unchecked, would evolve into something even more dangerous.

His jaw tightened. Who could be capable of such monstrosities? He already knew the answer, but seeing it with his own eyes made his blood boil. He clenched his fists, suppressing his fury. He could not act yet. Not until the time was right.

Before leaving, he purified the hidden chamber, slaughtering the Woldrats and freeing the tormented spirits from their suffering. Their fading whispers of gratitude filled the air as he granted them eternal rest.

Shin continued his search, uncovering more hidden doors and secret passages throughout the manor. Even the servants’ quarters concealed a dungeon, where those who had fallen out of favor were thrown into cages, left to rot. Rusted torture devices lay scattered about, encrusted with the dried blood of past victims. The instruments were unsanitized, ensuring that infections would claim the tortured souls long before their captors were finished with them.

The signs of cruelty were everywhere. He observed the guards and servants more closely, noticing the missing fingers, the bruises, and the cuts hidden beneath their uniforms. The truth was undeniable, the Lichtensteins thrived on suffering, reveling in the misery they inflicted.

Shin, ever methodical, formulated his plan. He had waged war before, outmaneuvered armies with nothing but tactics and guerrilla warfare. But this was different. He was alone in the belly of the beast, and his battle would be fought within the walls of this cursed manor.

Yet he knew he wouldn’t be alone for long. The oppressed needed only a spark to rise.

As he traced the safest routes through the estate, he marked potential exits, guard houses, servant quarters, the kennels, and the stables. Every pathway that could lead him to victory or escape was committed to memory.

Steeling himself, he made his decision. The time had come.

The Lichtensteins’ reign of terror was at an end.

Feigning exhaustion, he informed the family that he would be resting in his quarters that afternoon, declining their invitation to dine with them. In truth, he was preparing for the battle to come.

Tonight, the blood of the wicked would stain the halls of the Lichtenstein estate.

As he readies himself, he whispered a single promise to the spirits who had guided him.

"Tonight, I will set you free."