A Journey from Bitterness to Truth

Logan awoke in darkness, his wrists and ankles bound tightly. He squirmed, making a faint noise, which prompted a figure to turn around and sneer, “Well, look who’s not a crybaby.”

Putting on his best terrified face, Logan trembled in his constraints. “What do you want from me?”

He was in the back of a truck, the kind you see rumbling down highways. A flashlight beam hit his face, and on cue, Logan let out a heart–wrenching sob. A rough kick sent him rolling across the metal floor, his knees scraping raw against the unforgiving surface.

Biting back the pain, Logan looked up in horror. “Are… are you going to kill me?“.

“Ha! We heard through the grapevine that snatching you up would make your old man Yvan cough up a king’s ransom. And if he doesn’t pay, well, we’ll just have to kill you, won’t we?”

The word ‘kill‘ sent a shiver through Logan. “You’ve been played. My dad won’t give you a dime.”

They hoisted him up, the flashlight blinding him as they laughed at his feeble struggles. “What does a kid know, huh? The moment we spread the word about the kidnapping, Yvan’s gotta pay up to save face. He can’t afford to look like a dad who doesn’t care about his own son!”

These guys had done their homework. Tears ran down Logan’s cheeks as he cried out, “Let me go! Please, just let me go!” This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

“You think we’d let a cash cow like you get away that easy? Your rich daddy’s made you a target, kid.” Something cold and sharp pressed against his throat, the chill of metal sending a wave of fear down his spine.

“We get the money, then we get rid of you. You’ve seen us now; you’re a liability. So, what will it be? Your left eye first, or the right?”

No wonder they were keeping him in a truck; they didn’t want him to see their faces.

Trembling, Logan pleaded, “How much do you want? I’ll tell my dad to pay!”

The naivety made them laugh harder. “You really think it’s that simple, kid? There’s someone out there who’s put a price on your head!”

Logan’s heart skipped. “Is it… a lady?”

“We don’t know the details about our benefactor. All we know is that you’re a juicy piece of meat. With Yvan’s cash and the bonus from our client, you’re worth a fortune! Ha!”

The knife stayed at his throat, making it clear any sudden moves would end badly. “Where are you taking me?”

“Can you swim?”

The question was met with a sinister chuckle. “We’re heading to the coast, kid. Ha!”

10:40

Sea City was near the ocean, with a small port where cargo ships docked. If they threw Logan overboard there, he wouldn’t stand a chance.

His body shook uncontrollably as the kidnappers found amusement in his terror, flicking the flashlight on and off, each burst of light searing into Logan’s mind. He began to dissociate, his limbs no longer

his own.

He was too young to understand trauma or claustrophobia, but the mocking laughter and flashing lights were etching a nightmare into his brain that replayed at a sickening rate.

“You think you broke the kid?” one of the captors joked as Logan’s body convulsed,

“He’s just a little squirt. Bet he’ll be scared of elevators for life after this.”

“Life? After we get the money, we won’t have to worry about him having bad dreams.”

Their cruelty knew no bounds, and the darkness of the truck’s interior seemed to swallow Logan whole.