Chapter sponsored by Ko-fi! Thank you so much Somebody and Yaoi Queen!! ♥
_______________________________
Thick clouds covered the sky and heavy rain was pouring down, hitting the windshield at a regular pace. The sound echoed like a mournful melody, exacerbated by the silence.
Just like the weather outside, the atmosphere in the car was bleak. No one was talking, and the radio was turned off. Even Stephan was silent, his eyes focused on the road. He sat in the driver seat, his hands tightly gripping the wheel, while Gabriel sat next to him in the passenger seat, gazing out of the window.
Not long ago, Mrs. Brown called to tell Gabriel that Misha still wasn't home. Her boy should have returned before noon, and it was already late afternoon. Though she and her husband should have been out on a date for the weekend, they were gone for only one day and one night in the end, and the family made plans to eat together tonight.
"We missed our children too much" was the excuse.
Gulnas was thus currently at home and waiting for her son, preparing dinner. Misha had never been good with punctuality, often vanishing into thin air regardless of the time and the place. Hence, him running late wasn't anything surprising; it was even something Mrs. Brown had expected. However, he usually answered the phone whenever she called, laughing and making excuses for not being on time again.
But today, he wasn't picking up the phone no matter how many times she called. An unsettling feeling was starting to agitate her heart, and, eventually, Gulnas could not continue to ignore it. She had to know where her son was.
"Do you know where Misha is by any chance?" she asked in an exasperated tone after greeting Gabriel. "I know he's not a kid anymore, but I can't help worrying. You know how he is."
"Well, he has always been the kind to jump in trouble with both feet. So it's normal to worry," Gabriel laughed, his voice soothing. "But sorry, I don't know where he currently is. The last time I talked with him, he was at the shopping mall with my brothers. I'll try to contact him, then update you on his whereabouts. At any rate, he shouldn't have gone too far."
"Thank you, you're a sweetheart!"
"No need to thank me."
After ending the call with Mrs. Brown, Gabriel immediately called Misha and sent him a few text messages. But every time, there was no answer. So, he might as well try to contact Jake. Misha had promised to meet up with him earlier, and they should still be together.
The ringtone rang for a while before someone picked up the call. However, it wasn't Jake.
"Hello?"
The voice was unfamiliar, cold yet playful. Upon hearing it, an ominous feeling welled up in Gabriel's chest. His smile vanished, and his eyes became fierce, startling Stephan who had been in the middle of putting a steaming cup of coffee on the table—he almost knocked it over, scared witless by Gabriel's expression. Masha and Yuki had left a few minutes ago to prepare for work, and only Stephan and Gabriel were left in the café at the time.
"Who are you?"
"Your brother's friend, you could say," the voice laughed, and Gabriel's ominous feeling grew sharper. "I sent a little gift to your home. It should arrive in an hour or so."
"What kind of gift?"
"Telling you would ruin the surprise." The chuckles were low and taunting. "Be a good boy and give my regards to your father, will you?"
"I'll need a name for that."
"Even without a name, he'll know who you're talking about."
Then, the man hung up, and the dial tone resounded in Gabriel's ear.
"Stephan, we're leaving for my house. Now."
Gabriel's tone of voice was heavy, letting Stephan know something serious had happened. With a nod, he stood up and took his coat hanging on the chair, not asking his friend anything. They ran outside to the parking lot without wasting a second, abandoning their steaming cups of coffee on the table.
They wanted to hurry, but it was rush hour and the car was stuck in a traffic jam. What usually was a 3o-minute ride thus took over an hour. During that time, a thousand thoughts swirled in Gabriel's head. He voiced none, however.
He tried to contact his father at one point, but there was no answer. Anxiety rose, yet his cold façade didn't crumble.
Seconds seemed to stretch into minutes and minutes into hours. It was a terribly long ride.
When they finally arrived, Gabriel told Stephan to stop at the driveway gate. A small wooden box was left at the feet of a pillar stone, wet from the rain. It was plain brown and its design was simple, no details were carved onto it and even the lock was but a mere piece of metal. Thankfully, the lamp at the gate cast a pale light on it, drawing the eye. Or else, he'd have missed it.
Gabriel got out, took the box, and sat back in the car, not caring about being drenched by the heavy rain. He carefully opened the box, and when he saw what was inside, he let out a curse.
In the middle of a blood-red tissue lay an eye. The iris was emerald green, just like his, while the black pupil was dilated, lifeless, and bottomless. It felt like it was staring straight into the deepest part of his soul, judging him.
A piece of paper was pasted to the inside of the cover. One sentence was written on it:
"The youngest son's eye will follow in three days."
***
The door was opened with a clunk, and Jake was shoved inside the room the next instant. He fell on his side, groaning in pain as he curled into a fetal position. The masked man leaned against the doorframe, not moving an inch after throwing his hostage inside.
Misha didn't seem to notice him nor care about his existence—all of his attention was focused on Jake's face, which was turned toward him. The blood trailing down his cheek hadn't even dried, and the eyelid of the eye he kept closed was swollen and blackened.
Reality came crashing in. Jake's left eye had been gouged out, just like this.
The sight made him boil with rage, and Misha could not help but shoot daggers at the masked man. Hatred distorted his face, giving him the air of a frenzied beast. God knew he'd have loved to tear the man apart right here and right then, had he been given a chance.
"Don't glare at me, kid. I'm just doing my job," the masked man said, adding with a nonchalant shrug, "If you want to blame someone, then blame his father."
"Fuck you!" Misha snarled. "You didn't even bandage his wound! And what about painkillers? Is it that hard to spare some for him?! You want to kill your hostage or what?!"
"Misha…." Jake weakly said, but the teenager paid him no heed. Now, asking him to keep his mouth shut was akin to asking for the moon. He could not stay silent, not after seeing what kind of state Jake was left in.
"Bandages and painkillers, hm? Alright, I'll give you some."
"And water!"
"Fine, fine."
The masked man glanced over his shoulder and waved, presumingly to one of his underlings that stood guard in the corridor. He didn't say anything, but his words were nevertheless conveyed.
Meanwhile, Tristan crawled to Jake and buried his head in his side, crying. He was trying to stifle his sobs, but it was to no avail. His brother was hurt this bad; how could he not wail his heart out? The sight was too painful to bear.
As for Misha, he glared at the masked man all along, ready to pounce on him if he dared to get closer. But the bastard didn't move, simply staring at him with a hint of a smile in his eyes. The more he stared, the angrier Misha became.
A few minutes later, the underling came back with a glass of water, a bottle of painkillers, and a roll of bandage. He gave everything to the masked man, who put the lot on the concrete floor.
"Here you go," he chanted, "See you later."
He then left the room with a soft laugh, not forgetting to lock the door behind him.
Misha swallowed back the curses on the tip of his tongue, staring at the things he had asked with gritted teeth. They had everything he wanted, good, but his hands were still tied behind his back. It was impossible to tend to Jake like this, and the masked man knew it.
The teenager let out a scoff. Well, it didn't matter to him.
His wrists and thumbs were tied with plastic straps, and though he could not free his hands, he could bring his arms before his chest if he twisted his body a little. After taking in a deep breath, he forced his wrists to pass under his buttocks, then his legs and feet, his arms seemingly about to pop out of their articulations in the process. It wasn't a movement he'd call natural, but it was feasible nonetheless.
"You're quite flexible," Jake commented weakly, staring at the teenager as he twisted his body as if it was boneless, just like a caterpillar.
"Shut up," Misha groaned, rolling his painful shoulders.
In his past life, his biggest advantage in a fight had always been his agile and flexible body. So this time around, he decided to enforce these two things first and foremost. Thanks to the sequels left from transmigrating at such a young age, he couldn't work out for years, lest he wanted to faint and be plagued with fevers. All he could do was stretch his body while lying in bed; as a result, he had grown pretty much as flexible as a cat.
"Why didn't you do that earlier…?" Tristan sobbed, still glued to his brother. "You could have… You could have—"
"I wanted to keep a trump card, however small. Anyway, that's not important right now. Move a bit and let your brother sit, or else he won't be able to swallow the painkillers."
The boy nodded and obediently rolled over on his side, lying just beside his brother. Though free, Jake didn't move and eyed the bottle instead. It had the label of a very well-known painkiller, but he didn't trust it.
"Stop glaring at it. The bottle is sealed, so the pills inside shouldn't have been switched. Will you take them on your own, or do I have to shove them down your throat?"
"I just don't want to accept anything that bastard gives us," Jake winced as he forced himself to sit up, staring at Misha's fingers as the teenager clumsily tried to open the bottle. He was holding it with his thighs, fighting with the cap with his tied hands. "Why did you go head to head with him earlier? I told you not to draw attention to you."
"Yeah, right. I'd prefer to spend the rest of my life in a dirty brothel than live as a coward," Misha snorted, pushing the painkiller in Jake's mouth. Then, he brought the glass of water to his lips, urging him to drink. "Trust me, living with a guilty conscience and regrets is nothing fun. It will gnaw at you days and nights until you go crazy. And that is something I refuse to go through."
To this, Jake responded with a faint, sorrowful smile. He closed his remaining eye and took a sip of water, swallowing the painkiller. Misha was right. For some people, guilty conscience was the cruelest torture there was. He was all too aware of this, unfortunately.
________________________________
Chapter revised on 2022-06-14
Edited by Clozed! ♥
Ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/rs_vaesen
Discord: https://discord.gg/ZsEYr5eh6h