Concrete Jungle || Bad Omens || Noah Sebastian

Chapter thirteen

Noah slumped against the cell wall, his breath slow and labored. His body had become a mass of aches, and every muscle cried out for vengeance for the hunger that was slowly consuming him.

Since he had stopped accepting food, his captors had decided to cease offering it. It was evident that they had accepted his choice. The cell had transformed into a mental trap where hallucinations assaulted him with increasing intensity. But it wasn't just hunger that made him lose touch with reality; there was something deeper, an unease gnawing within him.

Occasionally, Noah heard voices. He could not discern their origin, nor whether they were real or a product of his increasingly unstable mind. The sensation of being watched had become a constant presence, and the thought that his captors were tracking his every move was driving him to madness.

Then, another wave of memories crashed over him.

Noah sat on the couch in his living room, legs stretched out on the coffee table in front of him, a cold beer still in his hand, after returning from the tour with the band. The tour had been exhausting, but the success had electrified him. That evening, everything felt possible. He had a bright future ahead, or at least he thought so.

The soft light from the lamp barely illuminated the room, casting long, flickering shadows on the walls. Outside, the city was alive with activity, but inside his home, there was a calm that cradled him after weeks of chaos. The tour with the band had been a success, and despite the exhaustion, Noah finally felt at peace.

His eyes drifted over to his guitar, propped carelessly against the side of the couch. Of all his recent achievements, that was his most trusted companion, a witness to sleepless nights and long practice sessions. The memories of the concerts filled him with pride, but now he just wanted to enjoy a moment of quiet.

That's when an unusual sound startled him. It wasn’t the typical street noise, nor the wind shaking the trees outside. It was something different, closer, more menacing. Noah slowly set the beer down on the table, his brows furrowed as his heart began to race.

He rose from the couch, his body tense with apprehension, and moved toward the front door. Maybe it was just an animal, or perhaps a neighbor being too loud. But as he walked down the hallway, the sound became clearer: footsteps. Steady, heavy footsteps, inside his house. Noah froze, his heart now pounding in his ears.

He didn’t have time to turn around. A shadow lunged at him from behind, fast and forceful. Before he could react, a rough hand clamped down on his arm with brutal force. They banged his head against the wall to render him harmless. He tried to break free, but a swift and vicious blow to the back of his head sent him crashing to the ground. His vision blurred, and the floor seemed to sink beneath him.

He was on the verge of losing consciousness, but he could still vaguely sense the movements around him. Hands lifting him, muffled voices speaking in low, hurried tones. He tried to open his eyes, but everything was a haze, like a fever dream. He attempted to scream, but only a weak groan escaped his throat.

The last thing he felt was a sharp pain on his forehead, followed by the metallic taste of blood on his lips. Then, darkness swallowed him completely.

When Noah woke up, he was in the cell. The cold stone floor seeped through his clothes, and a sharp, throbbing pain radiated from his forehead. He reached up to his face, feeling the crust of dried blood on his skin. He remembered little of the abduction, but the wound was a painful reminder of what had happened to him.

He turned around. In that cell, next to him there was Elise's lifeless body.

Noah opened his eyes, gasping. The memory of the abduction returned like a violent wave, crushing the reality around him. He had been taken from his own home, and now he began to recall the details. But there were gaps, voids that drove him mad. Why? Why had they taken him?

Then another thought overwhelmed him: Elise.

He had never known her before that damned cell. He had never seen her laugh; he had never witnessed her happiness. When they had placed her there with him, she was already injured, pale, and the blood staining her clothes was the only thing he had noticed at first.

A deep wound in her abdomen, something terrible that he still didn't know how she had sustained. A surge of rage made his blood boil in his veins.

Someone had deliberately wounded her fatally. They wanted her to die, to suffer in excruciating pain. What kind of sick individual could do something like that?

He could still see her in his mind: lying there next to him, teetering between life and death. She had become his only link to humanity, the reason he had fought for so long. But now she was gone. Dead. Taken away by those who watched them as if they were lab rats in a twisted experiment.

He shook himself, trying to banish the thought of her death. The hallucinations returned to torment him. Sometimes he saw her there, beside him, still alive. His mind played cruel tricks, making the pain even more unbearable. And then, like a blade in the dark, the voices returned to speak to him. Whispers. They laughed at him.

"You let her die" they seemed to say.

His hands clenched into fists, cold sweat trickling down his back. "No... no... it's not my fault!" he shouted into the void, but the walls remained indifferent, just like his captors.

Another memory emerged, breaking the silence.

He was on tour again. He was playing his favorite song, and the crowd was shouting his name. The music transported him to a world where pain did not exist, where every note made him feel alive. The freedom of music meant everything to him. But then, a detail he had never noticed before. At the end of that concert, when they had stepped off the stage, there was someone in the crowd. A mysterious figure, motionless, eyes fixed on him.

Had that person followed him throughout the tour? And was he only remembering now? Another piece of the puzzle had revealed itself. He had been watched for a long time, even before the abduction.

Noah closed his eyes and tried to breathe, but the air was heavy, almost suffocating. The memory of the figure in the crowd gave him goosebumps. Had all this been planned for a long time? But why? What did they want from him? And what did Elise have to do with all this? Why had they placed her there with him, injured and on the brink of death?

Exhausted, he collapsed onto the hard, cold floor, his mind clouded. Every fiber of his being cried out for food and water, but he knew he must not give in. He had to keep pretending, hoping that the only way out was to feign weakness. His captors were watching him, he was certain. But he had to be clever. He had to survive. If they believed him dead, perhaps they would take him away from that damned cell.

“Noah…”

A voice. But this time it wasn’t in his head, or at least that’s what he believed. He turned sharply, trying to identify the source of the sound. No one. Just emptiness. Just shadows.

Was it Elise? Or was it simply his mind playing yet another cruel trick on him?

“I have to make it... for her...” he whispered to himself as darkness enveloped him once again.