The beasts tamers redemption

Soul’s life ended in torment, confined to a tiny, forgotten room where both his body and spirit withered away. For as long as he could remember, the people he had called family had shown him nothing but disdain and cruelty. It wasn’t always like this. There were fragments of his childhood where he remembered warmth, laughter, and a sense of belonging. But something had changed. His parents, once affectionate, began to avoid him. His siblings sneered at him and conspired to ensure he would be forgotten. At first, it was the small things—reduced portions of food, fewer conversations, and long stretches of isolation. Then came the ultimate betrayal—imprisonment within a dark, empty room.

There, he lay in the quiet solitude, days stretching into months, possibly years. It was hard to tell anymore. The thin blanket provided little warmth against the biting cold that swept through the cracks in the stone walls. His body, already frail, grew weaker with each passing day, and the gnawing hunger that twisted his stomach seemed to become part of him. His only solace in that miserable existence was the book his captors had left behind, likely forgotten like him. Soul read it over and over, escaping briefly into the fantasy of far-off lands and heroes—everything he wished his life could have been.

But no hero came for him. The world outside went on, indifferent to his suffering. His family never returned, and his hope faded with the light filtering through the cracks of his prison. There was no final goodbye, no sense of closure, only the slow descent into oblivion as his body gave up. Starvation, a quiet thief, crept in and claimed him.

Soul’s final moments were not ones of anger or fear but of resignation. He had waited long enough. If his family would not come for him, then death would. It was a cold end, a death marked by isolation and neglect.