Theoretical Temptations

1||Echoes of Agony

**trigger warning ⚠️: this content contains themes of violence and abduction. reader discretion is advised.**

some actions in the following scene involve violence and themes of intimidation, which may be distressing to some readers. if you find such content triggering or upsetting, please proceed with caution or consider skipping this section. take care of your mental well-being and seek support if needed.
🎆

📍 United States, Newyork

Life is full of uncertainty, and my eyes have seen too much pain for an 16-year-old to bear or understand.

My father was an underground fighter for the Ace Mafia gang in New York. Every weekend, from Friday to Sunday, the fights would take place, brutal and merciless. Each fight could earn him between $400and $4000. The fighters were more monstrous than demons.

I excelled in my studies, yearning for an academically stable life. We were a family of four: my mother, Shruti Martinez, my sister, Erin, who was five years younger than me, my father, Robert, and me, Rayan.

Despite my father's entanglement in illicit affairs, we found happiness. Life seemed to be on the right track. My high school journey almost going to end .

It was a Sunday morning. The air was thick with the aroma of breakfast as my mother busied herself in the kitchen, preparing a meal for the family.

My father hadn't come home yet. He usually returned between 3 and 5 AM after a fight, but now it was already past 10.

I was almost ready for high school, my mind occupied with the routine of the day.

I opened the front door, I called out, "Maa, bye. I will be late tonight. I have extra classes..."

My mother, setting the table, looked up and replied, "Yes. Be careful, Rayan."

Then I noticed them. Two large men in dark suits, standing ominously at the threshold. My heart skipped a beat, confusion and dread washing over me.

Before I could utter a word, one of the men spoke, his voice cold and unyielding, "Is this Liam Martinez's house, and are you his son?"My confusion deepened.

I stammered, "Umm... Yes. But why are you asking? Who are you?"The other man stepped forward, his expression as hard as stone. "This information will be of no good to you."

The atmosphere grew tense, the sense of dread palpable. Before I could react, the two men moved swiftly, their intentions clear.

One of them grabbed my arm with a vice-like grip, while the other stepped into the house, his presence menacing.

My mother screamed, dropping the plate she was holding, the sound of shattering ceramic echoing through the room. "Rayan!" she cried, her voice filled with terror.

The man inside the house advanced toward her, silencing her with a brutal slap that sent her sprawling to the floor. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be, Bitch ," he growled.

I struggled against the iron grip holding me, my heart pounding in my chest. "Let us go! What do you want?" my voice was shaking.

Ignoring my pleas, the man dragging me out of the house barked orders to his accomplice. "Get his wife and daughter. Now."

My sister, Erin, emerged from her room, eyes wide with confusion and fear. She tried to run to my mother, but the second man caught her, lifting her off the ground effortlessly.

pounding in my chest. "Let us go! What do you want?" I shouted, my voice shaking.

"Stop! Leave them alone!" I screamed, desperation clawing at my throat.

The man holding me pulled out a cloth soaked in chloroform, pressing it over my mouth and nose.

The sickly sweet smell filled my senses, and I struggled harder, but my strength faded rapidly. The world around me blurs, my mother's cries grow distant.

Darkness closed in, I saw the men dragging my mother and sister out of the house, their screams mingling with the pounding of my heart.

The last thing I heard before losing consciousness was the engine of a black van roaring to life, carrying us all into an uncertain and terrifying future.

The moment my eyes opened, the air filled with agonizing cries. My vision was hazy, my body unresponsive, bound tightly to a wooden chair by coarse ropes around my hands and feet.

As clarity slowly returned, dread overwhelmed me-the ghastly sight of my father's lifeless, blood-smeared form lay to my left.

"Ah! Dad! No, Dad!" I screamed, my voice raw with anguish. I struggled desperately against the ropes, but a vicious blow slammed into my face, jolting me into stunned silence.

Before me, my heart shattered anew-my mother, once a pillar of strength, now bore the brutal act of the menacing leader of the "Ace" gang ," Silver ".

Her face contorted in agony, she endured reverberating through my paralyzed soul.My mother was getting rapped front of me .

I cried out in desperation, "Leave my mother, you bastard! Leave her alone! What have we done to you? Just leave us, please!"

Another punch landed brutally on my face, the pain searing through me.

carried out his savage assault right in front of me, each blow crushing my spirit, my throat raw from screaming in futile protest.

My mother lay nearly lifeless, her suffering unbearable to witness. And my father, motionless on the ground, a silent testament to wrought upon us.

The mafia fight club was hidden away, heavily protected from the eyes of the law. It was a four-storied building. On the ground floor, the savage battles took place.

The first floor was a place of unspeakable horror, where women were treated as mere commodities, sold for just $15,000. The very thought of it is terrifying, isn't it? Any police force that dared to intervene would be eliminated in the blink of an eye.

The remaining floors were used for dealing drugs and weapons. These upper levels were busy with illegal activities, making the building a stronghold of crime and danger.

Then disaster struck. My father, Robert Martinez, lost a fight, costing the "Ace" gang a staggering $300,00. In this brutal world, every failure or misstep demands a harrowing price.

The repercussions would be nothing short of terrifying, a nightmare that would haunt our every waking moment.