Cherreads

Whispers Beyond the Rot

ElProUnai_Vega
7
chs / week
The average realized release rate over the past 30 days is 7 chs / week.
--
NOT RATINGS
41
Views
Synopsis
He was born into a rotten world, marked by abuse and violence since his childhood. He never knew the warmth of a home or the comfort of a helping hand; only the harshness of misery and human brutality. He grew up with the certainty that his life was worthless... and, in the end, that certainty came true. But death wasn't the end. When he opened his eyes again, he awoke to an unknown world, a place where war and hopelessness lingered in the air. No powers, no divine gifts, no kind second chances... just a weak body and scars that still burned in his memory. Now, reborn in a dark and hostile land, he must fight to survive in a destiny he didn't choose. Every battle will harden him, every betrayal will mark him, and every step will bring him closer to becoming someone feared and respected, even though he never sought glory or redemption. This is not the story of a hero. It's the story of a broken person who learned to walk among the ashes.
VIEW MORE

Chapter 1 - Whispers Beyond the Rot

Abandoned by the world

Filthy rats, cockroaches creaking in the filth, dilapidated houses that stink of damp and neglect. Hungry people, homeless, without family. People fainted in the mud, forgotten by everyone. And me… in the middle of it all, as if I deserved every bit of this mess.

I walk. I walk. I run. I run. Whores. Bars. Alcohol. Drugs. Tobacco. Stink. Sweat. Shame. Pain. Exhaustion. Pain. Disgust.

I look at my left hand: a lighter, cold, insignificant. I look at my right hand: a bottle of alcohol, empty and cruel.

I hate myself. I hate myself to the bone. I hate myself as I hate everything I am.

I HATE MYSELF! FUCK, I HATE MYSELF!

Tobacco... I need a smoke.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, crumpled and sticky. I lit it; the match sputtered, smoke burning my throat and making me cough.

Coof! Coof!

I took the cigarette out of my mouth and took a sip of beer, the bitter liquid sinking into my stomach. Nothing soothes, nothing saves.

I walked... to an alley. A door, from that door came a dim light.

That door... grimy, disgusting, dirty, corroded by rust, peeling, smelly, rotten... and yet... beautiful. Irresistible. It was calling me.

IT'S CALLING ME! I'm coming. I'm coming, baby... wait for me. No... don't go.

The door... I have to open it. No... I can't...

OPEN UP! FUCK!

An intense chill ran through me, as if the world were tearing at my bones. Sleepy… I'm sleepy… my eyelids weighed tons. My body was shutting down. I fell to the ground, exhausted, abandoned, invisible to everyone.

And then, in the darkness that dragged me down, a memory hit me: their voice, screams, blows… the fear that couldn't be shouted out. I shrank back, always shrunken, always waiting for the next blow, the next insult, the next humiliation.

I hate myself… because that's who I am now. Because I carry every scar of theirs inside me. Because I never learned to be anything else.

As I fell, as the cold consumed me, I felt that pain define me, accompany me… and yet, something inside me refused to completely shut down.