Flowers And Death - VegasPete (English Version)

Chapter 21

The silence in the room was so deep that it seemed to press against Pete's ears. He had been there for hours — maybe two days or even weeks, time had lost all meaning. The dim light that came through the small window high in the wall told him only that day and night still existed outside, but the world seemed distant, as if he had been torn from a reality he once knew. Hunger and thirst were already present. Pete only got one meal a day, and it was not at all nutritious for his children.

His wrists ached from the restraints. The rope that bound them behind the chair had dug into his skin over the hours, leaving marks that pulsed with every heartbeat. The smell of the place was unbearable. There was damp on the concrete walls, and the thick, stifling air brought on intermittent nausea. He knew he couldn't let his mind succumb to the environment, but despair was a growing shadow inside him, hard to shake.

Sometimes Taiwan would enter that stinking place, but he barely spoke to him, just to watch him and laugh at his precarious condition. The sound of footsteps in the hallway echoed in his mind long before he reached the door, each creak of the rusty metal making him hold his breath. When the door opened, it was always the same: cold looks, curt commands, the threat always in the air, but never directly spoken.

Sometimes he tried to remember home. He would close his eyes and force himself to visualize the face of his boyfriend, Vegas, the only point of light amidst the darkness that now seemed to dominate his life. Was he looking for him? Did anyone know where he was? These thoughts were both his refuge and his torture. The uncertainty was unbearable, and the hope, an endless agony.

The hours passed erratically. Without a watch, Pete counted the moments by the sounds outside: the creaking of hinges, the echo of distant footsteps, and the sound of cars passing by outside, as if the world continued to turn without him. Whenever food was brought, he noticed the same pattern — the metal plate hitting the floor, the spoon being pushed closer, and the door closing immediately. He could barely eat, but he forced his body to accept the tasteless food. He needed strength... And he needed to keep his children alive, they had to live.

A single window, too high for him to see anything meaningful, allowed moonlight to flood into the space at night, bathing the room in shades of silvery gray. It was on one of those nights that Pete heard a strange sound: the wind rustling a loose sheet of metal, a distinct sound that cut through the absolute silence of the early morning. He focused on that sound, using it to distract his mind from the oppressive surroundings, an anchor to reality.

Every little detail became an obsession. He began counting the stones on the cracked ground, the muffled laughter coming from far away, trying to keep his mind occupied, away from the abyss of despair. But fear always came back, overwhelming. What did Taiwan want from him? Why were they still keeping him alive? These questions buzzed in his head like insects he couldn't shake off.

One day, the door opened more abruptly than usual. Two men walked in, their faces covered by black masks. Pete felt his heart race, cold sweat running down his back. One of them was holding a small camera, and the red light indicated that it was recording. The other moved and removed the tape covering his mouth. Pete moved his arms, trying to free himself to grab his belly, to protect his children from whatever those two men were going to do.

— Smile for your boyfriend. — said the rough voice, without emotion. The smile that formed on his lips was not his smile, but he was forced to. The knife against his belly made him smile. — Show how happy you are, and that you don't want to go back. — Tears ran down through his smile, the fear of that knife being stuck in his belly and hurting his children was agonizing.

When they were done, they stuck the tape back on and left, leaving him in the same suffocating silence as always. The camera being turned off was the only testimony to his humiliation.