Cell
Previous ChapterNext ChapterMiguel Francisco laid on the frigid, clammy floor of his dungeon cell, sniffling and sobbing. The dungeon was underground, and prisoners were held in rows of dungeon cells, arranged similarly to the rows of products in a grocery store. Miguel could not see the prisoners next to him in his cubic cell, but he co Suddenly, Miguel felt a horrid smell creep into his nose. He stopped his weeping, his face shifting from a ripe, tear-filled despair to a sickly white expression of absolute horror. The stench he had detected was none other than the disgusting reek of Duke Fazalupin
Miguel quickly receded into a dark corner of his cell and hung his head, trying to remain quiet. The smell strengthened, soon potent enough to curse Miguel with a series of sharp, painful stomach spasms and a dense nausea. Miguel wasn't strong-willed, or anything. He began dry heaving immediately, coughing and blubbering, while a fresh batch of tears streamed down his face.
Duke Fazalupin approached, slithering.
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