Each movement was a negotiation with agony, a price extracted for the illusion of control. The chains, cold and unforgiving, bit deeper into my wrists with every twitch. They were a second skin now, a constant, heavy reminder of my captivity. Were they real, these chains, or just figments of a mind so desperate to define the boundaries of my torment?
I couldn’t be sure.
Then, a flicker. Not a physical light, but a spark within the suffocating blackness. A memory, sharp and clear, of sunlight on my face, of laughter echoing in open air. It was a cruel tease, aphantom limb of joy reaching out from a life that felt impossibly distant, a life I was beginning to forget.
She was pure joy. The happiest part of life, and she was all mine. Just standing there, I watched as she stood before the mirror rubbing her growing stomach. The awe of anticipation evident on her face. Her smile of contentment and pure love exuded from every pore.
She was stunning, and I would never tire of looking at her.
“August, look.” She smiled heavenly as she turned, holding her tiny little stomach. “I’m showing.”
Grinning, I walked over to her and placed my hand over hers, kissing the side of her head. “I can see that.”
Smiling up at me, she beamed. “I love you.”
The memory shimmered, fragile and golden, until reality dragged me back into the gray suffocation of my cell. Her laughter lingered in the air, mingling with the foul scent that clung to me. My echo of happiness drowned in the relentless tide of pain. I could almost feel her fingertips tracing gentle circles over my hand, the warmth of her body pressed close, the rise and fall of her breath a promise that life could be beautiful.
But beauty felt like blasphemy in this place. The walls pressed in, and time lost all meaning, as the hours bled together into a tapestry of suffering. Yet I clung to her image like a talisman, letting it flicker in the darkness, illuminating the emptiness with hope so faint it barely registered, a desperate, defiant ember against the endless night.
In the silence, her voice was my balm. I mouthed the words she had once spoken,I love you, and found a strange comfort in the shape of them, a reminder that there was something left inside me worth salvaging. Maybe survival was more than just a gamble; maybe it was a promise made in the quiet moments, the kind held sacred, even here among the shadows.
The door creaked above, and I closed my eyes.
It was that time again.
More pain.
Footsteps stomped down the stairs as I lay there waiting for the next round of torture, and I immediately told myself to brace. That I could withstand whatever they did to me. The truth was, I was barely hanging on. I didn’t know how much more I could take, and when the cell door opened and I was hauled to my feet, I knew right then and there that I was done.
“No more,” I groaned as rough hands gripped me tightly, dragging me from the cell and up the stairs. I didn’t know what the hell was going on. Was this some new psychological test to get me to talk? Present me with the illusion of freedom only to yank it away at the last minute?
“You have a visitor.”
Barely able to walk, they dragged me through the clubhouse as if I weighed nothing, while brothers stared resolute but remained silent as I passed. Entering another room, I heard someone curse as they shoved me into a chair forcefully, before I slumped over, unable to hold my own head up.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” a firm, familiar angry voice seethed. “What the fuck did you do to him?”
“My brothers were bored,” Morpheus said easily, as if nothing were wrong. “My club. My rules.”
“He’s no good to me if he can’t walk.”
Morpheus chuckled. “Not my problem.”
“This isn’t funny, Morpheus.”
From the small slits in my eyes, I watched as Morpheus leaned back in his chair and stared at the man I hadn’t seen in over a year. “Oh, I think it’s fucking hilarious, asshole. Your president did this. Not me. I’m only playing by the rules he enacted all those fucking years ago.”
Rubbing the back of his neck, the man looked at me and then sighed. “Alright, Morpheus. What’s it gonna take for me to leave with him?”
“You already know.”
Groaning, he pulled out a chair and sat, shaking his head. “I can’t give you what I don’t know.”
“Well, someone knows.”
“You’re right about that.” The man smirked as Morpheus stiffened. “And you let her go.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”