Unforgotten Memories

Chapter-22

Jackson

"Keep whipping till he says something." One of the five guys that have held me captive says. A group of thirty terrorists had disguised as army men and attacked our base camp. One of them knocked me out with an iron rod mid-fight. When I opened my eyes a few hours later, I saw myself strung by a bar. My wrists were tied up with ropes, which was in turn tied to the bar. I was stripped naked and hung like dead meat.

"Look who is awake." A grubby man asks as he taps the end of a whip on his palm.

"Listen up, cunt. You better tell us your squads' next move, unless you want some whips. You tell us the plan, and we give you a painless death." another man says with a menacing smile. I remain silent and bow my head down defiantly. My shoulders are killing me since the whole of my weight is balanced on them. My toes barely brush off the floor. The man gives his men a signal, with which they begin to whip the living hell out of me. I bear the pain silently, but there is a limit to which I could take it. When it started getting unbearable, I screamed. I screamed till I felt my throat going sore. Eventually, they stopped with the whipping. The grubby man took a fistful of my hair and yanked me back.

"You better give us the information, or else things will just get worse." He says. I blankly look at him, panting heavily. A small smile makes its way to my face, and I wink at him. This somehow infuriated the dude. He gives out a tenacious command in a foreign language, and four more men emerge with whips in their hand.

Uh oh.

After long torturous hours, the rope by which I was hung, was cut. I fall limply on the floor. Too exhausted to even groan in pain. I feel a sharp sting on my cheek when I was being slapped.

"Ready to speak now?" A new man asks me. He is pretty tall and intimidating. The dominating vibe can be sensed a mile away from him which makes him the boss.

"F-Fuck you." I spit.

His facial features change. His eyebrows are furrowed before a menacing, sinister smirk comes across his face.

"Bring the slab." He orders with a foreign accent. I could hear faint voices of wheels squeaking and I open my eyes into slits, squinting to see a large slab of ice being rolled towards me. The slab was almost as big as I. Suddenly, I was lifted off the floor by three men and put on the slab with a thud.

"FUCK!" I yell as I try to get away. But I was pushed back and tied down over the ice.

"You sick son of a bitch." I say through gritted teeth, glaring at the boss.

"We'll be back when you're ready to talk." He says calmly before leaving the basement.

I abruptly opened my eyes gasping for air. My whole body is on fire and I feel out of breath. The unfamiliar environment freaks me out even more and I turn to my side, to see Rosie soundly sleeping with her hand over my stomach. I lean back on my pillow and let out a relieved sigh.

Thank God she's a heavy sleeper.

I am feeling so restricted and suffocated as if someone is choking me with an invisible pillow. I slowly remove her hand from my stomach and make my way to the balcony. I really need some fresh air. I slide open the door and get out, feeling the winter wind biting my skin. Maybe it was a bad idea to come out on the balcony in just your boxers. But it's better than going back to that constricted room. I take a deep breath and lean on the railing. My thoughts go back to last night when Rose and I argued. It seems like we both want different things. She isn't backing out from what she wants and neither am I. It's probably for the best if we just, end it. Rosie is going to be an amazing mother, and I can't take that privilege away from her. It's going to be hard but, I guess this is what is best in the long run.