Zeldric
I cough violently, spitting out a thick stream of blood. There’s nothing left for me to vomit, and the dizziness is constant. I don’t know if I feel this weak because of my miserable state or because I’m practically bathed in my own blood. I also can’t remember how long I’ve been trapped in this damn hole.
There are no windows.
The only light illuminating the room is a single spotlight hanging above my head.
Another punch lands—this time to my chest—and I try to free my hands, but they’re tightly bound to the back of the chair with thick rope.
"You just have to tell us where the shipment is, Zeldric," Alex says.
I smirk, shrugging.
"You know me, big brother. I’m good at keeping secrets."
He sighs and signals the guy who’s been beating me for the last few hours to strike aga
