Golden Tears

Chapter8

Brennon came to, gently opening his eyes. Above him, the fluorescent lights of the warehouse glared coldly and unforgivingly at the scene. He was bound to a metal chair; his hands were tied firmly behind his back. His clothes were ragged, his face bruised, and what little dignity he still had marred by the brutal conditions. Victor Hoffman and his men stood around him, their faces a mix of greed and cold purpose.

Brennon was kneeling a few feet away, observing, with a trial of a look on his face. "Brennon, it seems like we ran into a li'l problem. Sandra here swears that your tears will turn to gold, but the way things look in here––our methods are not useless. Why don't you tell us what we do wrong?"

Bloodstained and bruised, Brennon glared at Victor with an almost fiery defiance in his eyes. If anything, the fact that trifling Sandra had now betrayed him, not to mention the looming threat of Victor and his plans, only added to the anger coursing him. "You won't get anything from me," he spat, his voice raw and defiant. "My tears don't turn into gold just because you want them to."

Victor's eyes narrowed. "We'll see about that. If you don't cooperate, we'll have to use more direct methods to extract your secret."

At Victor's signal, his men stepped forward. Their expressions had hardened with determination. The men were armed with implements to cause pain causing him to get Brennon to reveal his secret big metal rods blunt instruments of one kind or another all meant to break his decision.

The first blow landed on his ribs, hard, spiking pain throughout Brennon's body, and he bit his teeth together tighter, refusing to cry out. It was excruciating—every bit of it—but yet he was resolved to hold on to his secret. His conscience raced over the sense of betrayal and the urge to protect what was his.

The men continued their battering with ruthless efficiency. They took it in turns to hit Brennon, every blow causing discomfort to his mum, with the hope of forcing a response. Brennon's quick panting breaths continued, his body slumped in the chair, but he remained determined. His tears did not turn to gold, though.

Victor watched, frowning and curious. "Why aren't his tears turning into gold? Sandra assured us that his tears would react under duress."

One of the men, holding a metal rod, stopped and swabbed at the sweat on his brow. "He's not breaking, Victor. Maybe he needs more. motivation."

Victor's frustration could be seen as he paced. "If the results don't come soon, maybe there will be an option of using another methods. I sure wouldn't like for there to be any unnecessary violence if we can possibly help it.

He bore the pounding of the men until Brennon's resolve was stretched almost to the tearing point. The pain was harsh, but his tears stayed mundane. Then realization dawned on him—Victor's men did not understand the nature of his power. His tears turned into gold only when he was in a profound, truly sorrowful state—a state that physical pain alone could not bring about.

Despite the severe, maddening pain, Brennon's mind was clear. But more piercing than any bodily ache was the emotional pain he had received: the betrayal, loss, and feeling entirely abandoned. As cruel as the physical beating was, it could not penetrate the level of heartbreak that would unlock the transformation in his tears.

Victor was getting restless and moved a step closer to Brennon. "Brennon, you have to realize that we are at the end of our rope here. It's not only the secret that we are interested in; it's security for our investments and a future for us."

Brennon locked eyes with Victor, feeling both defiant and tired of everything. "You won't get anything from me. My tears don't turn into gold just because you torture me.

Victor is just getting a little more frustrated and angry. He nodded to his men to stop the attack. "Very well, Brennon. If pain isn't going to work, we will have to think of another way. Sandra's intel might have been faulty or incomplete, but we know other ways to get what we want."

As the men stepped away, relief sagged Brennon's body, even though the pain was overwhelming. He panted in ragged gasps, fighting to remain conscious. The attack had been brutal and physical, but he had held on to his secret. His mind was a haze of pain and betrayal, but he remained resolute to protect his special gift.

Victor stared at Sandra, who had been standing silently since the start. "Sandra, you said you knew what triggered the transformation. If what you gave me was false, now is the time to prove whatever you said was correct, or else you will pay the price."

Sandra looked dubious: guilty and anxious. "I…I thought the tears would change with any sort of distress. I didn't know quite what it took.

Victor's eyes narrowed. "If you lied to us, you will be paying it, because Brennon's strength proved that we were on the wrong way, and if your information, Sandra, was wrong, then we need to think of another method."