As I settled into bed, my eight abs visible beneath my skin, I let out a deep sigh. I had left the door open, too tired to bother closing it. My ash pyjamas lay on the bed, and I slipped into them, feeling the soft fabric against my skin.
As I lay flat on the bed, my head on one hand and the other hand resting beside me, I felt my eyelids growing heavy. I drifted off to sleep, unaware of my dad's approach.
My dad climbed the stairs, his shirtless torso gleaming with sweat. His eight abs were chiseled and defined, a testament to his rigorous training regimen. He wore a pair of black pyjamas, and his hair was disheveled from his exertions.
As he reached the top of the stairs, he muttered to himself, "Today's training was quite boring, all because of my wife." He chuckled, clearly amused by some private joke.
As my dad continued to relive the conversation in his mind, a hint of a smile played on his lips. He remembered how his wife(My mom) had interrupted his exercise routine outside of the house, holding his ear and saying, "Enough of the 250 push-ups."
He recalled his response, "Honestly, you know I always do 500 push-ups and 150 sit-ups at night." His wife's reply still lingered in his mind, "Not today, go and have some rest."
My dad's eyes sparkled with amusement as he remembered how his wife's smile had caught him off guard. He had felt a twinge of fear, knowing he was in for a lecture. "May-maybe you're right, I'm going to have some rest," he had stammered.
As he finished reliving the memory, my dad's gaze fell upon my open door. He stood there for a moment, watching me sleep. A warm smile spread across his face, and he whispered to himself, "My son is growing up to be a strong and capable young man."
As I slept, my dad stood in the doorway, gazing at me with a mix of pride and admiration. "Look at how his abs are," he whispered to himself, "they're just like mine. A 13-year-old boy with eight abs, that's something special." He smiled, feeling a sense of pride in his son's physical development. With a gentle gesture, he closed the door, ensuring I could rest undisturbed, and headed to his room to get some rest.
The next morning, I woke up feeling refreshed, stretching my arms and legs simultaneously. I yawned, rose from bed, and began getting ready for school. As I put on my school uniform, I whispered to myself, "Second day of going to school alone... and it's going to be a boring day." I headed downstairs, where my mom had prepared a delicious breakfast – Solar Flare pancakes with citrus on top, infused with a hint of magical sparkle dust that granted the consumer a temporary boost in energy and focus. The pancakes, stacked three high, sat on the table, accompanied by a steaming cup of tea.
After breakfast, I announced, "I'm going to school!" My mom replied, "Take care, Aster," while my dad added, "Keep it up, son!" As I turned to leave, my dad watched me go, observing the way my arms swung with a confident stride. "Men, look at how his arms are," he said to himself, "he's trained well with me. I'm a good trainer, indeed."
With a determined look on my face, I set off towards school. The sun beat down on me, but I walked on, undeterred. As I strolled through the familiar streets, buildings and people passed by in a blur, a constant reminder of the daily routine. I pressed on, ready to face whatever challenges the day might bring.
As I walked to school, lost in my thoughts, I noticed a man standing in front of me. He wore a blue and white shirt, black trousers, and a small ash handkerchief tied across his head, giving him a gangster-like appearance. A small knife hung at his waist, catching my attention. I didn't think much of it, assuming he was just a stranger.
As I passed in front of him, I felt a hard grip on my shoulder. I turned to face him, and he smiled, revealing a sinister intent. "Young boy, could you please help me?" he asked, his voice laced with malice.
The man thought to himself, "Come on, accept, and our men can kidnap you." His eyes gleamed with evil intentions, and I sensed danger.
I looked at the knife in his hand, ready to strike, and replied firmly, "No, I can't. Find someone else. I'm going to school." I declined his request, sensing the evil intentions behind his words.
I thought to myself, "He's a stranger who's talking to me out of nowhere. Does he have some evil plans for me?" My instincts told me to be cautious.
The man persisted, "Ooh, please, I'm in need. Helping me would be a good deed." I stood firm, replying, "I apologize, but I can't help you. I just met you."
As the man's grip on my shoulders tightened, I felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through my veins. He pulled me, trying to drag me away, but I resisted, my feet digging into the ground.
"Come on, let's go," the man growled, his eyes gleaming with malice.
I struggled against his grip, my heart racing with fear. "Leave me alone, you psycho! Are you kidnapping me?" I shouted, trying to attract the attention of the people around us.
The man's smile grew wider, and he pulled me harder. "My son, let's go home," he shouted, his voice dripping with false sincerity.
The people around us stopped and stared, confused by the scene unfolding before them. "What's going on? What are they doing to the boy?" someone asked.
The man's words sparked a murmur among the crowd. "They're family, but the son doesn't want to go home." Others chimed in, "What a stubborn son."
I shook my head, my anger and fear boiling over. "I'm not your son! My dad isn't a psychopath!" I shouted, trying to break free from the man's grip.
With a surge of strength, I pushed the man away, and he landed on the ground. The crowd gasped, and someone exclaimed, "Is he fighting with his dad?"
The man sprang to his feet, his smile still plastered on his face. "Come home, son. Mommy is waiting for you. Mommy is going crazy about you," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
I clenched my fists, my eyes blazing with anger but I kept my cool. "LEAVE ME ALONE!" I shouted, my voice echoing through the streets.
The man swallowed hard, his smile faltering for a moment. "Son, don't do this," he pleaded, trying to regain his composure.
But I was beyond reason. I dropped the man to the ground, my eyes scanning the surrounding area. That's when I saw them – four men, each wearing a handkerchief covering their heads, looking like gangsters. They were closing in on me, their eyes fixed on me with an unnerving intensity.
I knew I had to act fast. With a deep breath, I steeled myself for what was to come. I was ready to fight for my freedom.
I stood my ground, my eyes locked on the man who claimed to be my father. "Watch it, I'm not your son, and you know that," I said, my voice firm and resolute.
The man's smile grew wider, his eyes gleaming with malice. He knew I was right, and it only seemed to fuel his evil intentions.
As I glanced around, my mind racing with thoughts of how to escape, I wondered, "Fighting them wouldn't be a problem since I'm well-trained, but fighting around people feels pathetic, and it will only bring commotion."
With a deep breath, I made a split-second decision. I pushed through the crowd, using my hands to clear a path. The people surrounding us gasped and shouted, but I didn't look back. I kept my eyes fixed on the small road ahead, lined with houses.
As I disappeared from view, the gangsters swallowed hard, their faces pale with fear. "He's gone, boss might kill us," one of them stammered.
The man who claimed to be my father snarled, his eyes blazing with anger. "Let's catch him, at all costs. We can't lose him."
The four men took off in a sprint, following the direction I had taken. As they ran, the man thought to himself, "We need to catch him, so we can sell him to other nations for a fortune. We've found enough children, but I'm sure he would make a fortune."
The man raised his finger, signaling to someone in the distance. In all four directions across town, gangsters with handkerchiefs tied around their heads appeared, as if out of nowhere. They saw the signal and understood what the man meant. Now, every gangster in town was hot on my heels.
I ran as fast as I could, my heart pounding in my chest. I knew I had to lose them in the crowd, but I also knew that I couldn't outrun them forever. I needed a plan, and I needed it fast.
As I ran between houses, I noticed a man jumping from the roof of a nearby house. A gallon container lay behind him, and I immediately sensed danger. "He's one of them," I thought, eyeing the handkerchief tied around his head like a gangster.
I didn't understand why they were kidnapping me. "Aaargh, all because I'm walking alone," I muttered to myself. "If mom was here, this wouldn't happen."
The man pulled out a small knife from his pocket, but I wasn't intimidated. With a swift motion, I jumped onto the wall of the adjacent house and walked across it, using my agility to maintain balance. I then jumped off the wall, landing smoothly on the ground.
The gangster's eyes widened in surprise as I jumped towards him. His head inadvertently slipped into the gallon container, leaving his legs flailing in the air. "Hey idiot, get me out of here!" he yelled, his voice muffled by the container.
I smirked, "Later." I began to walk away, but the gangster's pleas grew louder. "Hey kid, get me out of this thing!"
I stopped and turned around, "Why are you kidnapping me? Tell me, and I'll let you out." The gangster's response was muffled, but I could make out his words. "Get me out of here first, and I'll help you."
I raised an eyebrow, "Than stay there for the rest of your life." I turned to leave, but the gangster's words stopped me. "Wait... I will tell you, but help me after I tell you. And I won't harm you, I will even help you."
I thought to myself, "That's a lame excuse, but I'll listen to him. Then I'll leave him here and try to find a way home." I turned back to the gangster, "Sounds like a deal, then. Speak."
The gangster's words sent a chill down my spine. "You're not the only kid that they're looking for. They're looking for many kids as possible as they can find, so that they can sell you to other nations, and you'll be a slave there. We'll earn money from it."
My eyes widened in horror. "So, there are more kids who have already been captured?" The gangster nodded, his head still stuck in the container. "Yes."
I felt a surge of determination. "Tell me where they've been kidnapped, and I'll let you go." But before the gangster could respond, more gangsters appeared, coming for me.
I turned and ran, not hearing what the gangster was about to say.
As I continued to run, my mind racing with thoughts of escape, I muttered to myself, "Crap, there's more of them. Just why can't they leave me alone?" The man whose head I had stuffed into a gallon container shouted, "Yo kid, where are you going to? You kept your word that you will help me."
The gangsters rushed past him, ignoring his pleas for help. "Heyy, help me out! Get me out of this!" he shouted, but they didn't even break stride.
I kept running, my feet pounding the pavement as the gangsters closed in. I thought to myself, "I'm faster than them, look at how slow they are. They can never catch me." But my confidence was short-lived, as more gangsters appeared in front of me, blocking my path.
I thought, "I guess I spoke too soon." I was in trouble, surrounded by gangsters with no one in sight to help me. My only option was to fight.
"I have no other choice but to fight," I thought, steeling myself for the battle ahead. "But they're too many, this will take time. But I can't lose to them."
The gangsters charged, shouting, "Let's get him!" I dodged their punches and kicks, using my agility and quick reflexes to evade their attacks. I countered with my own kicks and punches, sending some of the gangsters crashing to the ground.
But the gangsters refused to give up, and soon they pulled out their knives. I knew I had to end the fight quickly before things got out of hand.
Just as the gangsters were about to attack, a deep voice shouted, "Stop!" The gangsters froze, looking around nervously. I took advantage of the distraction to catch my breath and prepare for the next phase of the battle.
I stood tall, my eyes locked on the leader of the group. The air was thick with tension as the crowd parted, giving him a clear path to approach me. I wondered to myself, "He must be their leader."
The leader's eyes narrowed, his gaze piercing as he asked, "Will you come with us?" I replied with no fear, "No, I can't."
The leader's expression turned cold, his voice dripping with malice. "Is that so? Then I have to fight you." I stood my ground, my heart pounding in my chest. "I'm ready to beat you," I replied, my voice firm.
The leader sneered, raising his hand. A circular symbol appeared around his hand. I felt a surge of magic wash over me, immobilizing me. I thought to myself, struggling to move, "I can't move. He's immobilized me."
The leader walked towards me, his eyes gleaming with cruelty. He kicked me in the face, and I felt a searing pain. He punched my stomach, and I doubled over, gasping for breath. I managed to whisper, "Leave me alone."
The leader's final blow came in the form of a swift punch to my neck. Everything went black, and I felt myself falling to the ground. As I lost consciousness, I heard the leader's voice, "Capture him."
I slowly opened my eyes, groggily taking in my surroundings. I was met with the cold, hard bars of a cell. My head spun as memories of the kidnapping flooded back. I tried to stand, but my legs felt like jelly. I stumbled and fell back onto the floor.
"Where am I?" I muttered to myself, my eyes scanning the dimly lit warehouse. The air was thick with dust, and the smell of decay hung heavy. I spotted other cells, each containing two children. Some were younger than me, while others were around my age or slightly older. But I was alone in my cell.
As I struggled to process my situation, a voice echoed through the warehouse. "Hey kiddo, how you doing?" The man who claimed to be my father earlier stood before me, a wicked grin spreading across his face.
I clenched my fists, anger and fear simmering beneath the surface. "You...you're the one who kidnapped me!"
The man chuckled. "Kidnapped? Ha! You're just a valuable commodity, kiddo. Tomorrow, you'll bring a good fortune to us."
My anger boiled over. "You don't know how it is to have a real family! I have a mom and dad who care about me, not like you!"
The man sneered. "Well, I don't care. You're just a means to an end."
Just then, another gangster appeared, dragging a struggling girl behind him. "We've got another kid, sir."
The man pointed to my cell. "Put him inside this cage."
The gangster tossed the girl into my cell, and she landed hard on the floor. She glared up at the gangster, her eyes blazing with defiance. "Leave me alone, you son of a bitch!"
The gangster sneered at the girl, "Just shut up." But she wasn't having it. Her face reddened with anger, and she raised her hand, "Hey, don't let me kick your ass, you foolish pervert!"
I watched in awe, thinking to myself, "Wow, she's hot-headed, and she has no fear even after being kidnapped." Her white hair seemed to shimmer in the dim light, and her eyes blazed with defiance.
The man who claimed to be my father intervened, placing his hand between the gangster and the girl. "Hey, no fighting here, even Boss told us not to hurt any kids. Just let that little girl be." His smile seemed to hide a sinister intent.
The gangster backed down, but the girl wasn't finished. "Hey, who are you calling little?" she snapped.
The gangster shrugged, "She's really trouble. She was trouble for us even when we were going to kidnap her." He seemed to enjoy recounting the story.
The man's eyes lit up with interest, "Woah, really? What kind of trouble?"
The gangster leaned against the bars, a sly grin spreading across his face. "When we found her, ready to kidnap her, she managed to beat almost all our men. We had to call in more men to take her down, but she still managed to defeat them." He chuckled, "She's a real firecracker."
I listened, my mind racing with questions. "Wait, what? How could she be captured if she was able to defeat so many of your guys?" I thought to myself.
The man seemed to read my mind, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Then how was she captured?" he asked the gangster.
The gangster shrugged, "Well, it was when she was running. Her leg hit a stone, and she tripped. We managed to grab her before she could get away." He seemed to find the memory amusing.
I thought to myself, "How could she miss her chance to escape, all because of a stone?" It seemed like such a simple mistake, but it had cost her her freedom.
The gangster bid us farewell, "Well, I'm going." He walked away, leaving us to our thoughts.
The man smiled evilly, "I'm going then." He seemed to be savoring the moment.
The girl glared at him, her eyes blazing with anger. "Who are you looking at? Buzz off!"
The man chuckled, "Oh, I'm looking at you, little one. And soon, you'll be bringing me a fortune." He turned and walked away, leaving us to our despair.
As we were left alone, I couldn't help but think of a plan. I looked at the girl, her fierce demeanor both intimidating and intriguing. "Maybe if she's that strong, we could escape," I thought to myself. "But is she willing to accept my help? She seems so fierce, so independent."
But before I could even finish my thought, the girl's eyes snapped towards me, her face reddening with anger. "Heyy, who you looking at?" she snarled.
I quickly turned away, trying to play it cool. "No one."
But the girl wasn't having it. She strode over to me, her eyes blazing with fury. "Don't lie to me, you were staring at me! You're a pervert, aren't you?"
I clenched my jaw, trying to keep my cool. I thought to myself, "Shut up, who are you calling a pervert?" But I knew better than to provoke her. Instead, I kept my mouth shut and looked away.
The girl's anger seemed to simmer down slightly, but her eyes still narrowed at me. "You're not going to deny it, huh?" she said, her voice dripping with venom.
I remained silent, not wanting to escalate the situation. But as I looked at the girl, I realized that she wasn't just hot-headed - she was also hurt. There was a deep-seated pain in her eyes, a pain that I couldn't quite understand.
As the silence between us stretched out, I began to wonder if my plan was doomed from the start. Was this girl too fierce, too independent to accept my help? Or was there something more to her, something that I couldn't quite see?