𝐑𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐬 | 𝟏𝟖 +

𝐓 𝐇 𝐈 𝐑 𝐓 𝐘 - 𝐒 𝐈 𝐗

Sevan

My head was pounding. It felt like my skull was splitting open, the worst headache I'd ever experienced. I blinked a few times, trying to clear the haze from my vision, but the fog in my brain was relentless, a thick cloud that refused to lift. I couldn't move, couldn't feel my limbs, and it took me a second to realize that I was sitting in a chair, no, strapped to a chair.

I glanced down, or tried to. My neck was locked in place, something cold and heavy wrapped around it, forcing my head to face forward. Panic flared in my chest as I struggled to understand what was happening. The drugs still coursed through my system, numbing me completely, but I could feel the pressure of the ropes digging into my wrists and ankles, tying me securely to the chair. My muscles screamed to move, to fight, but nothing happened. I was completely immobilized.

That's when I noticed the TV.

It stood in front of me, the screen black for now, but something about it made my stomach turn. A shudder ran through me, though I couldn't even feel it. I tried to crane my neck, tried to shift in my seat, but whatever was keeping my neck locked in place made it impossible.

Then the door creaked open, and I saw him.

Nathan.

He sauntered into the room, that familiar smirk plastered on his face, the one I had once known too well. But now, there was something darker in his eyes, something twisted and malicious that made my skin crawl. He stopped in front of me, folding his arms across his chest as he looked me over like I was nothing more than a piece of meat.

"Sevan." he said casually, like we were old friends catching up. "I bet you're wondering why you're here. And why there's a TV in front of you."

I glared at him, my heart hammering in my chest. If I could've moved, I would've wiped that smug look off his face in an instant. But I couldn't. I was trapped, powerless to do anything but listen to him gloat.

His smirk widened at my silence, as if he enjoyed seeing me like this, helpless, defenseless. "You see," he continued, "in about fifteen minutes, that TV is going to turn on, and you're going to get your chance to star in your very own show."

I frowned harder, confusion swirling with the rage already boiling in my chest. My fists clenched in the ropes, but I couldn't even feel it.

He leaned in closer, his face just inches from mine. "Oh, and it's not just any show. There's a little camera up there, see?" He pointed to a small device mounted on the ceiling, angled right at me. "It's going to record everything. And guess who gets a front-row seat?"

I wanted to scream at him, to curse him to hell and back, but my tongue was like lead, my mouth unable to form the words. All I could do was glare at him, the only weapon I had left.

"That's right." Nathan said, his voice almost giddy. "In a few minutes, that camera will send the footage straight to Marilyn. She'll get to watch you suffer, Sevan. Every second of it. Isn't that sweet? The love of your life, forced to watch while you fall apart."

I felt sick. My stomach twisted into knots as his words sank in. This was all some sick game, a twisted way to hurt Marilyn by using me as the pawn. I tried again to move, to jerk forward, to do something, but my muscles refused to respond. The drugs had me completely at their mercy.

Nathan patted my cheek mockingly, the touch sending a wave of disgust through me. "I can see it in your eyes, you wish you could move, wish you could scream at me, tell Marilyn what a traitor I am. But you can't, can you? No, all you can do is sit there and wait for the show to start."

He pulled back, taking a step toward the door, but not before giving me one last look. "Enjoy the next few minutes of peace, Sevan. Once that TV flicks on, you'll wish you'd never woken up."