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
Tyrone experienced a whirlwind of both pain and confusion going on in his head. The incessant pain running through his body was so great it overshadowed his thirst for water. He could not remember how he got here or what made him feel this great agony. A shadowy figure emerged, towering above Tyrone's beaten body. The masked man, which was somehow scarier than any ever would have been. His voice seemed unclear and distorted making the atmosphere more unstable per second."How are you feeling now?" The question of the masked man was left hanging in the air, without a response. Tyrone tried understanding the question, but his mind was overworking itself. “Did you think you can play naive forever? For what reason? He wanted to reply but he could only manage a low groan. Already swollen, his tongue was unable to form words. A figure came from the darkness and a second masked man who joined the group. He was as well as strict and built like the others but smaller in size. He his still n
The air around grew thick with every inhale of fear and desperation as the exhale was filled with pain. Tyrone’s world has turned around just in the past few hours. Just moments ago, he found out his true identity, that he never knew existed. Now the dream was short lived and turned into a nightmare that comes along with violence and coercion.The mask man, with a menace stature embodied an aura that kept regenerating, stood over him, his voice was low, and he mumbled some words which were not clear. “Sign it,” he demanded, his words indifferent to the grave silence that had filled the room. There was no paper, no pen, Tyrone was looking bewildered, just a chilling ultimatum.Tyrone's mind was unstable. His new inheritance, which he just found out lately, was an emblem of his new identity, a coolness to an unstable mind of his past that was taken from him. To give up the inheritance was to surrender a part of himself. Yet the steel bar that the masked man held tightly on his hand was
The world Tyrone knew and was familiar with all his life, had collapsed into a pile of shambles and suffocating nightmare. He was a prisoner in his own body, a puppet attached to several strings, continuously dancing to the brutal rhythm of the masked men command. The masked men had shown enough coldness that if given the authority could wipe out humanity without blinking. They had given him an ultimatum to give up the company or face the worst he could ever imagine. The choice was a cruel irony, an expensive joke played on a man’s intellectual who had just found his rightful place in the world, a man who just lost everything but saw a way out of all the disdain, a man who just got an inheritance that would last for generations to come.Tyrone’s mind wasn’t stable, the usual rush and traffic of thoughts and emotions filled his soul once again. The company was his inheritance, the only and tangible link to the family he never knew, neither grow up with. Yet, the suffering and pain of
Tyrone's world was going to change from now on, he had given up the company, and he was being bundled into the bus, his face blindfolded. Suddenly the car came to a halt as he was thrown out of the bus and he felt consciousness elude him.Tyrone lay broken in the cold, hard road, his body was already bruised and broken beyond repair. The world was a blur of flashing lights and distant sounds of cars as he tried to focus on the faces hovering him. An officer, his face filled with concern and worry, but that was the only clear image in Tyrone’s fading consciousness.He was disposed of by the desolate road just like yesterday’s trash which was dumped on the side. The last thing he could remember was being suffocated by darkness, coupled with relentless heart pounding. He’d given them what they wanted. He’d given up the company. Now, they’d cast him aside like a broken toy.Soon the ambulance siren cried from afar, cutting through the night’s quietness and stillness. Paramedics rushed to