Tyrone tried walking out of the house almost staggering and falling, his vision covered by blood trickling down his face. He had just lost the fight with the director, lost everything in whole, and right not he was left with nothing but a painful heart and aches of his battered body.The cool air of the night met his face as he managed to walked down the stairs, almost losing his balance. His legs were so light that couldn’t support his weight. But he had to keep moving, he just couldn’t stop. He needed to get to the hospital, he needed help before he faints or before the injuries become serious.As he staggered down the sidewalk, the events of the past hour played on repeat in his mind like some sick, twisted movie.*Walking into their bedroom, seeing Judy naked and writhing beneath the director.The look of shock on their faces as they scrambled to cover themselves.Judy's voice, shrill and panicked: "Tyrone! It's not what it looks like!" The director, smugly buttoning his shirt: "Sor
The doctor nodded, scribbling something on a clipboard. "Mr. Tyrone, you've lost a lot of blood. We need to get you into surgery right away."Tyrone tried gesturing, but the small movements he made sent more pain through his body. He bit his lip and was determined not to cry out. As he was being prepped for surgery, attaching various monitors, Tyrone’s thought kept drifting in and out to Judy.How could she do that? After all they had been through, how could she just leave him hanging like this? Why did she pick the day of their wedding? The image of her on the bed with the direction kept giving a constant source of pain rivalling the knife wound in his side that he got from the fight.As he was about to get wheeled into the operating room, a nurse walked up to him, holding out Tyrone’s cell phone. “Mr. Tyrone, your phone keep ringing nonstop and it's the same caller, do you want to take the call before we go in or I should drop it?”Tyrone hesitated. Who could be calling him now? Eve
Tyrone stumbled out the hospital bed, his vision blurry as he fumbled around. Blood dripped from his chine, staining the white and blue patterned overall the hospital gave out to patients who were admitted. The hospital ward exit loomed before him, in his painstaking state."Sir, do you need help? How and why did you get out of bed?" A concerned voice pierced through the mist of his thoughts.Tyrone tried to respond, but only managed to moan. He was in serious pains. His legs gave way, and he felt himself falling. Strong arms caught him before he hit the ground."We need a stretcher here!" The voice called out, urgent and authoritative.As Tyrone was lifted onto the stretcher, the events of the past few hours flashed through his mind. He was already getting better, what happened to him? Today just can’t get any better.The fluorescent lights of the emergency room ceiling blinded him as he was wheeled inside. Nurses swarmed around him, their voices saying medical terms he definitely co
The bouquet of red roses sitting pretty in the trash bin, the sweet fragrance interlocking with the smell of coffee and also last night’s leftovers. Alexis just couldn’t take her eyes off them, her fists tightened. Still the memories of Haven's betrayal were still fresh.It had been five days since she caught her husband in a compromising position with his secretary, Cassandra. Five days of silence, of avoiding eye contact, of pretending Haven didn't exist. Five days of him trying to explain, to apologize, to make things right. But Alexis wasn't ready to listen. Not yet.She walked away from the trash bin and tried to make herself breakfast, the sound of the kitchen pots and spoons filled the air. She heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Her body froze but didn’t turn around."Good morning, Alexis," Haven said softly, his voice laced with hope and trepidation.Alexis kept whisking eggs, pretending to have not heard him. She knew he was staring at her, hope for her to face him.Have
Tyrone’s eyes opened weakly, the bright light of the fluorescent of the hospital room assaulting his vision. The steady beep of the heart monitor fill the room with its little noise, a constant reminder of his delicate situation. He tried to change his position on the bed, but still a pain shot through his body causing him to groan a little."Easy there, buddy," a familiar voice said from beside him, which he recognized to be Fred’s. "You've been through hell, don’t stress it too much.""I need... I need some time," Tyrone said finally, his voice barely audible but weak and full of anguish.Fred nodded, standing up. "Of course, man. I'll go grab some coffee, give you a few minutes. You want anything?"Tyrone shook his head meaning he didn’t want anything, then Fred patted his shoulder and left the room. As Fred closed the door behind his friend, Tyrone gave a shaky breath, tears starting to form in his eyes and he tried to hold it.He tried to sit up, ignoring the pain that shot throu
Tyrone’s just regained consciousness slowly as his eyes opened a little. His eyes opened, and as soon as he felt the strange softness, he experienced a knotted wrist agony. "Oh God, I’m still here?" He pushed himself up into an upright position and murmured. "You're home, Tyrone, don’t fret it’s okay." From the other side of the room, a low voice replied. Tyrone's eyes fell on the weird man who had been bothering and plaguing him for hours as he tried to find the source of the voice. The man sat in a leather chair, his eyes remaining concentrated and sharp despite his relaxed countenance. "Who are you?" With a voice filled with both rage and dread, Tyrone demanded. . "Why did you bring me to this place?" With his elbows resting on his knees, the man bowed down."I'm Victor, and I'm here to give you the actual deal about your background and origins." Tyrone wrinkled his brow in concern. "What topic are you discussing? Don't tell me that; I am who I am." With a melancholic grin teasin
As Tyrone become more conscious of his environment, it felt like a reluctant tide, with each wave bringing a new surge of fear and discomfort. The first he could notice as he was awake was the incessant pain in his jaw, but darkness was all he could see. Panic rose in his throat as he realized a thick cloth was tied tightly around his head, effectively blindfolding him.Tyrone’s beat grew shorter by the minute, he struggled for breaths as his wrists and ankles were restrained tightly. The chair he sat on made creaking sounds with every movement he made, the cold metal biting into his skin. The air around him felt thick and oppressive, heavy with the scent of musk and decay."H-hello?" he called out, his voice barely above a whisper. The word seemed to hang in the air, swallowed by the suffocating silence of wherever he was being held. Tyrone tried to listen to hear if there is any sign of life outside, or any clue of where he was. But all he heard was the heavy pound of his heart and
The first thing Fred noticed was the cold. It went deep into his bones, making him shiver tirelessly. And with that, brought about other sensations coming through the mist in his mind. The distant traffic, the choking smell of exhaust fumes.Fred forced his eyes open with a sharp pain. The world became more clearer to his eyes, revealing an empty road with a dense forest by its sides. He blinked, his face utterly confused as her tried to navigate his surroundings.Suddenly his face lit up like he remembered something, “Tyrone?” he shouted, his voice rough and too weak to cause any effect. There was no response other than the continuous rustling of leaves against the gentle breeze.Fred pushed himself up, groaning as his head banged with every movement. Panic building in his chest when realising he was alone, he looked around. He was suddenly struck by flashbacks of the previous night's events: Tyrone being taken, the hospital, and the masked men. "Tyrone!" Trying to encourage him to