"Great, now my floor is wet with *your* blood," Alexander scoffed, amusement sharp in his voice. Each step up the creaking wooden stairs sent jolts of pain through Anthony, the cold wood contrasting painfully with the warm, sticky blood oozing from his broken nose. Dark, almost black stains smeared across the polished wood marked his ascent, each creak a morbid soundtrack to his suffering.
As they emerged from the shadowy depths of the basement, a flickering wall sconce assaulted Anthony's eyes, forcing him to squint against the sudden brightness. He blinked, his vision adjusting to the lavish surroundings. Caramel-colored wallpaper adorned the expansive mansion, wrapping him in an atmosphere that felt both impressive and suffocating. He risked a glance around, noting the closed doors and glimpses of other rooms—potential escape routes in a fantasy he dared not indulge in. His gaze was drawn upwards to the magnificent chandelier overhead, its crystal pendants tinkling softly, mocking him with their delicate sound.
Faint footsteps echoed from distant reaches of the house, momentarily distracting him, but the cold, hard pressure of the gun against the back of his head snapped his focus back.
"Now, isn't this a nice place I've brought you to?" Alexander asked, smug pride lacing his words. He reveled in Anthony's discomfort, the control palpable in every syllable. *He's enjoying this*, Anthony thought, a bitter mix of anger and despair churning in his stomach. Memories of their friendship felt like a faded dream, cruelly mocking the present reality.
Anthony trembled, forcing his voice to remain steady, fear clawing at his throat. "This isn't over, Alexander," he managed, his words a defiant whisper against the oppressive silence.
Alexander chuckled, shaking his head. "Ah, but it already is, Ant. I've worked hard to reach this point, and now you're just a… stepping stone." The smug expression on Alexander's face intensified Anthony's anxiety, igniting a desperate spark of defiance. *I can't let him win.*
For a fleeting moment, adrenaline surged through Anthony's veins, giving him a false sense of hope. But that hope extinguished as Alexander shoved him forward again, sending him stumbling against the wall. Pain radiated through his body, the throbbing in his nose intensifying. The metallic tang of blood filled his mouth, bitterness mingling with despair. *Keep moving*, he told himself, gritting his teeth against the pain.
With each labored step toward the kitchen, Alexander's taunts echoed in his mind, each word a venomous barb. The trail of blood continued to mark their path from the basement, a stark reminder of his vulnerability. But beneath the pain and fear, a flicker of defiance ignited within him, a stubborn ember refusing to be extinguished. *I won't be his pawn.*
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