I woke up to darkness, heavy and smothering, like a thick blanket pressed against my face. My eyes darted around, blurry and unfocused, trying to make sense of the shadows swirling around me. My head throbbed, the pain pounding in my skull like a relentless hammer. My throat burned, dry and scratchy, each breath feeling like sandpaper. But worse than all of that was the weight around my neck.

  I reached up with shaking hands and touched cold metal. A collar. It felt tight, biting into my skin, solid and unbreakable. I pulled at it, tugged with all my strength, but it didn’t budge. It was like it had been made to stay there, as if it were a part of me now. After a while, my hands fell to my sides, useless. My chest rose and fell as I tried to calm my racing heart. This wasn’t a prank. It was too real, too cruel for that.

  I forced myself to sit up. The floor beneath me was hard and cold. A thin strip of light peeked from under the door, the only thing breaking the darkness. My legs felt shaky as I stood, but I made my way toward the door, driven by the hope that maybe, just maybe, there were answers on the other side.

  The hallway beyond was dim, lit by a single lantern hanging on the wall. Its light flickered weakly, casting long shadows that danced like ghosts. The air felt thick, heavy, and the silence pressed against me like a weight. Ahead, I saw a staircase spiraling downward, vanishing into deeper darkness. My gut twisted, warning me not to go, but I had no choice.

  The next floor opened into a library. At least, I thought it was a library. The shelves were packed with books, their spines faded and covered in dust. The air smelled of old paper and mold. But something about the room felt wrong, like it was watching me. I ignored the uneasy feeling and pressed on, descending further.

  The main floor was worse. It was like stepping into a nightmare. Jars lined the shelves, filled with strange, twisted creatures floating in thick liquids. Dried herbs hung from the ceiling, brushing the air like skeletal fingers. Odd objects cluttered the tables—things I couldn’t even name. The place reeked of decay and something darker, something I couldn’t explain.

  Then I heard it. The sharp clang of metal echoed from somewhere below, followed by the slow creak of footsteps. My breath hitched, and I stumbled back, pressing myself against the wall. The footsteps grew louder, and then she appeared.

  She wasn’t human—that much was clear. Her pointed ears and sharp, elegant features made her look like an elf from a storybook. But there was nothing comforting about her. Blood streaked her face, and in her hand, she held a cleaver that gleamed under the faint light. She moved with a grace that felt dangerous, her presence heavy and suffocating.

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  She spoke, her voice sharp and filled with words I didn’t understand. Her tone made it clear she wasn’t in the mood to be patient. Panic bubbled in my chest. My lips moved before I could stop myself. “Where am I? Who are you? Why am I here?” My voice was thin and shaky, breaking under the weight of my fear. She didn’t answer. Her eyes narrowed, and her words grew harsher, cutting the air like knives.

  I stepped back. She stepped forward.

  I turned and ran.

  The door was ahead. Freedom. I reached for it, threw it open, and ran straight into solid stone. I staggered, my hands slamming against the wall that shouldn’t have been there. My chest heaved as I spun, looking for another way out. But there was none.

  Then pain exploded through me. A sharp, electric shock ripped through my body, leaving me gasping and trembling on the ground. My vision blurred as tears stung my eyes. This wasn’t a dream. The pain was too real, too cruel. I was trapped.

  The elf returned, carrying a plate of bread and water. She set it down without a word, watching me with cold, unreadable eyes. My body ached too much to argue. Hunger gnawed at me, forcing me to take her offering. The bread was dry, the water warm, but I ate it all.

  When she left, I forced myself to move. My body screamed in protest, but I searched every corner of this strange, awful place. Each door shocked me the moment I touched it, the pain as sharp and unforgiving as before. Every hallway looped back into itself, and every step felt heavier than the last. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t find a way out.

  Hours passed. Maybe more. I lost track.

  When she returned again, she didn’t bring food. This time, she threw a book at me. A picture book. My blood boiled, and I threw it back at her feet, anger surging through my exhaustion.

  Her reaction was swift. She punched me in the stomach, hard enough to knock the air out of me. As I doubled over, she flipped through the book, shoving the pages into my face. The message was clear: she wanted me to learn.

  But then, in the haze of pain, I saw her.

  A girl, standing near the door. Her gray hair and pale skin caught the faint light, and her eyes held an emotion I couldn’t place. She looked human, just like me, and she wore a collar just like mine. She was holding a shopping bag.

  The elf’s fist landed in my stomach again, and the vision faded into darkness.

  I woke to find the girl sitting beside me. She didn’t speak. She spoon-fed me the food she’d brought, her expression calm but distant. When I was finished, she opened a notebook, pointing at strange symbols written across its pages. The elf’s demand was clear: I was to learn their language.

  And so, I began my life here, trapped by a cruel elf in a place that felt like a nightmare come to life. Every day, I searched for answers, for a way out. And though hope felt small, fragile, and far away, I clung to it with everything I had.