It smelled truly horrible here.
The conditions inside this prison were beyond disgusting. Lysithara was known for its absurdly high standards even criminals were usually treated with some level of dignity, yet this place felt as though it did not belong within the city at all but inside some forgotten hellhole buried beneath the world.
Damon could barely breathe without feeling the urge to vomit.
The cell was tiny, damp, and overflowing with filth. Human waste stained the corners while giant rats as large as cats shuffled through the darkness, their red eyes gleaming faintly whenever they moved. At night they crawled over the prisoners, nibbling at their feet whenever they tried to sleep.
In this place they were treated as less than human.
The darkness was suffocating.
Damon could not see even the faintest trace of light. Usually darkness comforted him. After all, he possessed a shadow attribute. Shadows knew him. They welcomed him.
But not here.
Not in this body.
