ToxiQue

OTHER WORLD

Felix stepped into the room, his blonde hair shimmering as it caught the rays of the afternoon sun filtering through the window. His small frame seemed even smaller as he gingerly made his way to the sofa, opposite Zhang, who was watching his every move with a cold intensity. As Felix's father exited the room, leaving him alone with the formidable man, it felt as though the air grew heavier—like he was being left to face the lion's den alone.

Felix kept his eyes glued to the ground, avoiding Zhang's piercing gaze. Fear gnawed at his insides, making it almost impossible to lift his head. The boldness he had shown during the incident with Jenna seemed like a distant memory, a rare flicker of courage in his otherwise timid nature. Now, all he could feel was terror.

"So, you're Felix," Zhang said, his voice low, coarse, and rumbling like distant thunder.

Felix didn't respond. His fingers trembled as he fumbled nervously with his nails, his throat too tight to allow even a whisper to escape. The silence only seemed to provoke Zhang further.

"Answer me, damnit!" Zhang's voice exploded through the room, booming off the walls before he let out a small, humorless chuckle.

Felix's body froze. His voice was locked in his chest, refusing to come out. He was suffocating in his own fear, unable to even meet Zhang’s eyes. Zhang watched him, mistaking the silence for arrogance, seeing Felix as nothing more than a disrespectful, insolent boy.

Minutes dragged on like hours, neither of them moving, until Zhang finally stood up with a grunt. He walked toward the door, pausing only briefly before saying, "Bring him to me."

Before Felix could react, one of Zhang's men appeared, moving swiftly. A handkerchief was pressed over his nose, the acrid smell of chemicals filling his nostrils. He struggled, his limbs flailing weakly as his lungs involuntarily sucked in the drugged cloth, but it was futile. His vision blurred, his body going limp as the darkness swallowed him whole.

........…..........

Felix's eyes fluttered open, his mind still thick and hazy. The world around him swirled, sluggish and out of focus, until his vision slowly settled. Above him, a dark ceiling loomed, intricately decorated with stone patterns of flowers, each petal seeming to mock his confusion. His thoughts were murky, disoriented. Where am I? The question echoed in his mind, and then, like a tidal wave, the reality of his situation crashed over him.

He bolted upright, his heart pounding in his chest. His head spun slightly from the sudden movement, but he forced himself to his feet. Stumbling to the door, his fingers wrapped around the cold metal of the knob. He twisted it, yanking at it desperately. Locked.

Panic gripped him like a vice. His breathing quickened, his thoughts spiraling out of control. This can't be happening. It was all a dream, right? His mind clung to the hope that this was just some twisted nightmare.

He banged on the door, his fists hitting the hard surface with frantic force. "Get me out of here, please!" he shouted, his voice cracking with fear. "Please, open the door!"

Silence.

No one came.

Tears welled in his eyes, blurring his vision as they streamed down his cheeks. His hands trembled, and his body shook with helpless sobs. "Mom!" he cried out, his voice breaking as he shouted into the emptiness. "Where am I?!" His words echoed off the stone walls, swallowed by the cold, indifferent space.

This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be.

That night, Felix neither ate nor slept. The untouched tray of food sat in the corner, a reminder of his isolation. His stomach churned with hunger, but his fear kept him frozen. The ticking of a clock filled the room, each second a taunting reminder of his entrapment. The sound seemed louder in the eerie quiet, reverberating off the black-painted walls. The dark hues of the room offered no comfort, only amplifying the suffocating sense of dread that filled his chest.

Felix sat on the bed, knees pulled to his chest, his mind in a haze of terror and confusion. Time dragged on, each moment bleeding into the next. He stared at the floor, waiting, hoping for something—anything—that would explain what was happening. But all he had was the ticking clock and his own mounting fear.

After what felt like hours, the door creaked open again.

This time, it was him.

Zhang, the tall, imposing figure who had filled Felix with dread from the moment they met, entered the room. He moved with slow, deliberate steps, the door closing behind him with a soft thud. Zhang stood there for a long moment, his eyes scanning the room. First, he looked at Felix, curled up on the bed like a frightened animal. Then, his gaze shifted to the tray of untouched food on the table.

His face was expressionless, a mask of cold indifference. There was no anger, no concern—just an unsettling calmness that made Felix’s blood run cold. Zhang’s silence hung in the air like a storm waiting to break, the tension thick and suffocating. Felix didn’t dare move, didn’t dare speak. He could only watch as Zhang loomed in the room, his presence casting a long, dark shadow over everything.

*WARNING: MENTION OF ABUSE IN THE NEXT SCENE.