NPC Diaries - Thrall cell

A piece from a world building project in no particular order - A thrall cell

Journal Entry — Day 1 (Evening)

If it's even evening. There's no sun here. Just shadows and stone.

My name is Elira.

I'm writing it down again — not because I might forget, but because I need to believe it still belongs to me.

I woke up on straw soaked in something foul. Blood, maybe. Not fresh. My clothes are damp. My skin itches. My throat burns.

There was a sound, distant — metal on stone, or a scream swallowed by the walls. It stopped quickly. Everything stops quickly here.

The room is small. No windows, just one barred slit high above I can't reach. There's a bed — if you can call it that — a desk with a candle, a chain long enough to reach the door, but not through it.

They haven't locked me up. Not fully. But the message is clear.

Someone was here before me.

Scratches in the stone. A stain that never quite dried. A nail. A tooth.

There's a bowl of water now. Bread so stale it could kill a rat. Someone placed them here while I slept. Or while I was... unconscious.

I didn't hear them. I didn't dream.

But I wasn't alone.

There's a presence here — in the walls maybe. In the chains. Watching. Waiting.

No one speaks. No one explains.

Who brings food but leaves no voice?

Who keeps a prisoner alive but untouched?

I don't know who put me here.

I don't know what they want.

But they want me breathing.

That might be worse than death.

My name is Elira.