But this time—
it wasn’t enough.
They slammed me back onto the table.
The impact knocked the air from my lungs in a sharp, brutal burst.
Leather cuffs snapped around my wrists.
Then my ankles.
Then across my chest.
My thighs.
Each strap tightened with ruthless precision.
Metal buckles clicked into place.
Final.
Locked. Unbreakable.
I jerked once.
Twice.
But the restraints held.
My body sagged against them, trembling with exhaustion I could no longer fight.
Blood smeared beneath me on the steel surface, warm and sticky against my skin.
The men stepped back.
Slowly.
One by one.
The chaos faded.
The alarms continued to wail in the background, but the immediate violence was over.
The room settled into a tense, suffocating stillness.
Most of them filed out.
Some limping.
Some holding bruised ribs.
Others nursing broken noses or swollen faces.
Only two remained. One tall, the other short.
The taller one rolled his shoulder, wincing as he adjusted his stance, a fresh bruise blooming along his cheek where my elbow had connected earlier.
The shorter one lingered beside him.
