Origins of the Tainted: Bloodline

Tortuous screams of agony shattered off the cavern walls, reverberating painfully over cold stone until they made a permanent home in my fractured psyche. The stench of blood and urine had long ago become familiar, so when a new wave of it filtered through the tiny window of my cell, I didn't flinch. Pained wails continued between pleas the man made for his life. The women torturers only laughed cruelly and continued beating him. Before long, the slices of blades in flesh resounded through the air, followed by the splattering of blood. The screams devolved into a desperate whimpering.

It was an average day in the underground.