Addicted 2 Moni

Shackled Reunion

Unknown POV 

The chains always rattle before they speak.

That's how I know they've returned.

I open my eyes just a sliver. The cold stings immediately. My back aches from the concrete floor. My knees won't unbend anymore. The scent of mildew, sweat, and rust has long since become part of my lungs. I've forgotten the smell of fresh air.

I hear movement. Metal. Boots. And the thick dragging of something—someone.

I shift slightly, just enough to glance at my wife. She's curled up, asleep, her belly swollen, rising beneath the thin, stained sheet like a fragile hill. The only part of her not trembling these days is the child inside her—too innocent to understand it's growing in a nightmare.

The door groans open.

Two men—Anthony's grunts—haul in a hooded body, shackled and limp, and chain him across from us. The way they handle him... it's like they're securing a beast, not a man.

One of them turns toward me.

I shut my eyes fast, steadying my breathing. Playing dead is the only trick I have left.

I listen. Chains. A grunt. The sound of flesh hitting the wall. Then the door slams shut like a gunshot, echoing in the hollow chamber we've been rotting in.

Silence.

Then—screaming.

"UGAAA!" the man bellows, thrashing violently against the restraints. The links groan under his weight. Dust falls from the cracked ceiling. My wife jerks awake, eyes wide in panic.

"Shhh," I whisper. She grabs her belly, trying to sit up, her hands shaking.

"Hello!? Who's there?" the man shouts, voice raw with panic and pain.

I open my mouth to speak—but before I can, the door clicks again.

And the devil steps in.

Anthony.

It's been weeks since we've seen his face, but I'd know that smile anywhere. That twisted, taunting grin, like he's been carving joy from our suffering.

My wife lowers her head into the dirty sheets, trying to vanish.

"Aw, don't get shy now," Anthony croons. "I brought you a gift."

He walks over to the chained man.

"How about a little... family reunion?"

He yanks the hood off with a flourish.

My wife gasps.

"CALEB?!" she cries, instantly covering her mouth as Anthony's eyes flick to her.

My chest seizes. No. No, it can't be...

The young man lifts his head, dazed and bloodied, eyes darting in disbelief.

"Mom...? What—?"

His voice breaks.

I stare at him. Brown skin, tight jaw, fire in his eyes—my eyes. I search his neck—there. The birthmark. The crescent. The mark I used to kiss when he was small.

"Son!" I whisper—then louder. "Son!"

His eyes lock onto mine. Recognition crashes into him like a train.

"Dad... you. We thought—you both were—dead."

Tears pool in his eyes. My own well up.

Anthony laughs, pacing like a wolf.

"Ah ah ah. Not dead yet," he grins. "The family's not complete... yet."

"I'm going to kill you!" Caleb roars, lunging forward, chains snapping taut. "You're fucking dead, I swear to God!"

A thud cracks through the air as a fist slams into Caleb's face.

He collapses sideways, blood trailing from his lip to the floor.

Anthony barely blinks. "Someone's gonna have to teach your boy who's running this shit."

He turns—locks eyes with my wife—then me. My body tenses.

"No... oh God, no—please!" I fall to my knees, pleading, palms up like I'm praying to a man who has no God.

My wife shuffles back on the mattress, her swollen belly exposed, silent sobs shaking her shoulders.

Anthony just chuckles.

"I think my men deserve a treat. They've been working so hard."

He steps to the door.

"All ten of them," he says with a wink.

Then he's gone.

Three men enter. The door clicks behind them.

I feel my breath leave my body.

No. No. No.

"STOP! Please! Don't do this! I'M BEGGING YOU!" I scream, yanking on the ropes until they slice into my wrists, warm blood pooling around my hands.

Caleb stumbles upright, lip split, eyes wild.

"Dad! What the fuck is happening?!" he shouts, confused and terrified.

The men don't respond. They descend on my wife like hyenas.

"NO! GET OFF OF HER!" Caleb screams, thrashing.

They hold her down. Her cries drown in the chaos. Her body writhes—but she's overpowered.

She screams.

The room breaks open.

"FUCK YOU!" Caleb howls, voice cracking, tears spilling freely. "GET OFF HER! YOU BASTARDS!"

My soul cracks as the first man forces himself inside her. I can't blink. I can't breathe.

My son watches.

And there is nothing I can do.

"I'm sorry, son," I whisper, sobbing, staring at him as my whole body trembles. "I can't... I can't move. They've tied me too tight."

He meets my gaze—full of rage, heartbreak, and the kind of pain that never heals.

Then the second man climbs on top of her.

The third cheers him on.

Their laughter fills the room like poison gas.

"Pregnant pussy hittin' different, huh?" one of them jeers, pounding into her limp body as the others cheer and laugh.

My wife doesn't scream anymore.

She's gone somewhere else. And a part of me envies her.

Caleb turns his face to the wall. His sobs are silent now, like he's somewhere between rage and collapse.

Then—

The door opens again.

Five more.

Caleb lifts his head, blood streaked down his neck. Eyes hollow. Arms trembling.

I don't even have the strength to scream anymore.

I just watch as the door slams shut once again.

And the nightmare continues.

Short chapter I know! I still currently deployed so I will try to update whenever I can please comment and let me know your thought and vote :)