128: 3.68 Regret

3.68 Regret

As Lu Yizhou and Oliver were engaged in heart-stuttering intimacy behind the enclosed space of their room, Ryan roused awake from his deep slumber. His mind was groggy and it took him a while to register that he was laying on a flat, hard and cold surface with an unfamiliar dark ceiling staring back at him. Pain wrecked through his entire body and he groaned as he forced himself to sit up.1

A mocking huff sounded not far from him, the sound was akin to cold water that chilled him down to the bones. "Awake?"

He whipped his head around in extreme shock and had little to none regard for the crack on the back of his neck. He couldn't believe his eyes. "How…" He stuttered, lips trembling as the words died down in his throat. Dread crawled up his spine. He looked as if he had just seen a ghost, which prompted a small giggle from Rosemane who was locked in the cell opposite his. No, no, no, this couldn't be happening. Ryan's heart galloped madly in his chest as he took in his surroundings in panic. Low ceiling, limited lights, rows of locked narrow rooms and transparent doors; he had heard of this place before. Built right underneath the Royal Palace and was used to lock up criminals who were considered a threat to the country, the famous dungeon where eight out of ten criminals were sentenced with death while the other two lifetime imprisonment… 

The Royal Dungeon, that was where Ryan was in now.

He hastily stood up — stumbling in the process — and came face-to-face with Rosemane, the only thing separating them was two transparent doors that were zapping with purple electricity and a narrow hallway. He ignored the faint dampness that seeped through the bandage around his thigh. His wounds must have been reopened again. "W—Why am I here?! How do I get here?!"

The horse omega looked nothing like the Princess he remembered her to be. His mane was messy and frizzy, skin no longer as smooth and luscious, body clad only in a simple, almost tattered dress. And her eyes… There was something manic and cruel within them that prompted Ryan to look away.

"I don't know." Rosemane shrugged then giggled again.

Ryan shuddered out of disgust and fear. 

Back then, he had woken up soon after the guard hauled him out of the cathedral along with Rosemane, head still numb from the aftermath of the stun gun. The bomb had exploded right behind him. Too close, too strong and it sent him and the guards flying a few meters away. He crawled his way out through the chaos, slipping between broken debris and glass fragments with desperation when the guards were ordered to rescue those who were trapped underneath the building. 

He couldn't stay here! He had to leave! That was the only thought left in between his ringing mind.

Dragging his injured body, he dashed to the forest behind the cathedral and hid inside a cave for two days. He had only torn his shirt to wrap it around the most severe injury on his thigh. Unfortunately for him, on the very same night, the temperature abruptly chilled and a rainstorm howled its might. Ryan wasn't lucid enough to go out and search for firewood, thus he had to grit his teeth and bear with the harsh situation for a night. As a result, he contracted a very high fever and his wounds began to show signs of infection. His sleep was restless, plagued with one nightmare after another and Rosemane's shrill laughter as the crowd screamed in horror filled every single one of them.

This woman was absolutely insane! The bomb had been an idea of hers, which Peter rejected because as much as he wanted to kill Emperor Bernard, there were too many innocent civillian in there. Ryan had stood on Peter's side because whoever was logical enough could deduce that Princess Rosemane spelled disaster! 

The omega had been too consumed by her own hatred and grievance that she didn't even care about her own life anymore. But it didn't mean that Ryan didn't! He still wanted to be an outstanding Alpha, found his mate, got married and had two cute children! Seriously, what was in his mind back then that he thought they could be successful with Rosemane on their side?! He must have been possessed!

Alas, no matter how many times he regretted it, he had no way to turn back time.

The deed had been done and the future he dreamed of was ruined. This was all this fucking omega's fault. Ryan glared at her, seething. "Are you satisfied now? Peter has died and we are sitting in the Royal Dungeon! We failed! We are the losers!"

"Shut up!" Rosemane bit back fiercely. At any time, Ryan would scoff at the omega's audacity to go against an Alpha but the morbid look on her face warned him that he might want to think twice. He trusted his instinct and the only time it had failed him was when it involved the insane omega in front of him. "SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! I AM NOT THE LOSER, I AM NOT—" 

Ryan jolted when Rosemane suddenly convulsed, a pained scream reaped out of her throat. She writhed on the ground, foam bubbling out of her mouth. Ryan's mouth gaped open. "What the…"

Like a puppet whose string had been cut off, Rosemane's arched back suddenly slumped down and her convulsing stopped. She had bitten her tongue by accident, blood trickling down her jaw. Harsh breathing reverberated through the narrow space. Her mane got messier, half of it covering her face, rendering Ryan unable to gauge her expression.

A monotone voice announced through the speaker that Ryan hadn't noticed before. [Inmate 1091, please maintain peace and harmony inside the dungeon. This is the second warning. You have only one chance before you will be brought to the black room as a punishment.]

Ryan sucked in cold air. Black room. He had certainly heard of it before. Hell, he and his classmates even gushed in admiration for the Emperor's wits to create such a torture room for the hideous criminals who deserved it. 

The black room, as the name implied, was a very cramped and tiny room that served as a solitude punishment for disobedient prisoners. It was said that one couldn't even stretch their legs in there, so the only choice they had was to crouch or curl uncomfortably. They would be deprived of light and sounds, and the only thing they could see and hear was darkness and their own breathing respectively. It would drive even the strongest person crazy. 

Once, there was a serial killer who had murdered twelve people in Alaze. After he was caught and thrown into the dungeon, he had been unrepentant and strived to become a nuisance to the warden and his fellow prisoners. Thus, he was thrown into the black room for 72 hours as a punishment. No food. No drink. No interaction with people.

There was no follow-up to the news but less than a month later, the serial killer was reported to have killed himself. He had gone nuts and kept clamoring that he saw and heard people whom he had killed before.

And now… this would be Ryan's fate. 

His name would be erased and he would only be called by numbers. As soon as he showed the slightest bit of misbehavior, he would be warned. And if he was crazy enough to keep doing it, the black room would be waiting for him. A blank laugh escaped his lips as he slid down to the ground. He clutched his head and let out a faint whimper. Why… Why had everything turned out like this? He wasn't a bad person. At most, he was only prideful and envious. He had only committed one mistake of siding with the wrong people, but it had cost him his whole life…

Ryan thumped his head back to the wall, tears sliding down his cheeks. His eyes were blank as he resigned to his fate. The path forward was dark and full of thorns; he was stuck in the middle of it without any light to guide him out. Alas, would he still be able to grasp onto the light?

Oh, how he wished that he hadn't been so foolish…

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