Revenged Love

Chapter 3

That evening, Luis decided to visit Axel, who sat curled up in the shadows by the wall, not far from the door. His head rested on his knees, his arms wrapped tightly around them.

He heard the faint jingle of keys, then the slow turn of the lock. When the door creaked open, a thin stream of light spilled into the dim room but Axel didn’t move.

Luis stepped inside and quietly shut the door behind him. His eyes swept the room, noticing that Axel was sitting away from the faint light creaking through the ceiling.

"Has the cat finally learned to respect his master," Luis said with a faint, mocking smile, "by hiding the moment he hears the keys?"

No response.

Luis’s polished shoes clicked against the floor as he stepped forward, stopping beneath the faint light.

"Come out, wretched boy," he said softly, his voice carrying that dangerous calm that always came before anger.

Axel didn’t move. He only lifted his head slightly, his dull eyes following Luis’s shifting figure as he searched the shadows.

"I’ll repeat myself," Luis said, his tone hardening. "Come out. Now. Or else."

Still, Axel didn’t move. He didn’t even want to. He hated this man - every sound of his breath, every step he took. His gaze stayed fixed on him, calm yet burning with quiet defiance.

Luis slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone. With a single tap, the flashlight flicked on, its sharp beam cutting through the darkness until it landed on Axel.

"Oh," Luis said. "There you are."

A slow, cruel smile slid across his face. "You really don’t learn, do you?" he murmured.

"Your stubbornness only makes me want to kill you more."

He stepped closer, each footstep echoing in the small room. The metallic click of his belt filled the silence as he unbuckled it with one hand, the phone’s harsh light cutting across Axel’s face with the other.

"But not yet," he whispered, his voice low and almost tender - the kind of tone that made the air feel colder.

Axel’s eyes stayed on Luis’s shoes. Then, in a sudden movement, Luis grabbed Axel by the collar and hauled him up with brutal force; his fingers scraped Axel’s chin, leaving a thin cut that bled almost immediately.

Axel felt the sting but didn’t flinch. Luis dragged him forward and threw him into the shaft of evening light on the floor, dust drifting around them like tiny sparks.

"Wasn’t planning on doing this tonight," Luis said.

"But that attitude of yours…" He paused, his jaw tightening until the veins stood out on his neck. "…is really starting to annoy me."

The silence that followed was heavy, alive, almost as if the air itself was waiting for the first strike.

Then it came.

A sharp, whistling c***k tore through the room, the belt cutting the air before finding its mark.

Outside the door, the noise was faint but unmistakable. Inside, Axel’s quiet groans echoed against the walls. He never screamed. He never begged. Only that dull sound, again and again, responding to each strike.

Mia froze where she stood. The sound of the belt came again, followed by another muffled groan. Each one tore at her chest. She knew it was Axel.

David heard it too - but unlike his sister, he only smirked. Leaning lazily against the hallway wall, he peered through the small gap in the door, watching with twisted amusement.

To him, it was entertainment - someone else’s pain turned spectacle.

Mia, meanwhile, struggled in her mother’s grip, tears streaking down her face as she tried to break free.

"Mom, please!" she cried. "He didn’t do anything!"

But Brenda only tightened her hold. "Enough, Mia. You’re not going anywhere."

When Mia wouldn’t stop struggling, Brenda dragged her back to her room and locked the door.

Mia pounded on it until her fists hurt, shouting, pleading but no one came. Her sobs eventually softened into hiccups as she slumped to the floor, her small hands trembling against the door.

Hours later, the lock clicked open again. It was dinnertime.

The family gathered around the long table, the air thick and quiet. Axel wasn’t there, but the sound of his pain still echoed in Mia’s mind.

She didn’t eat. Her eyes were red and swollen, and she just sat there, staring down at her plate, then glancing occasionally at her parents with silent fury.

David noticed and rolled his eyes. "Why can’t you stop being stupid, Mia?" he said. "Worrying about that dirty frog boy again?"

Mia’s head snapped up. Her red eyes met his across the table, burning with rage and pain.

"You better shut up," she said, her small voice shaking. "It’s none of your business."

Her mother’s fork stopped in midair, and the room went quiet again.

Then Mia suddenly pushed her chair back with a loud scrape and stood up.

"I’m not hungry," she muttered, staring at her plate before turning away.

But her father’s deep voice stopped her cold.

"Take one more step, and you won’t leave your room for two weeks."

For a moment, Mia said nothing. Then she slowly turned around, her small fists shaking at her sides.

“Oh, so you’re just gonna lock me up too like you always do to Axel?!” she cried.

David’s brow lifted, startled by her boldness.

"Mia," her mother said softly, her voice carrying a warning.

But Mia shook her head, tears already streaming down her cheeks. "No, Mom! I’m not listening this time! You’re all gonna listen to me for once!"

She sniffled hard, her voice cracking.

"What did Axel ever do to deserve being locked up in that dark, stinky room?"

She took a shaky breath, her small voice rising. "Huh? Isn’t he human like us? Why do you all treat him so badly?"

"Why?!" she cried, tears spilling faster now, blurring everything.

"Every time he gets whipped for nothing, and he never even complains! You don’t feed him right, you don’t give him good clothes, and you don’t even care when he’s sick! You treat him like he’s nothing - for no reason!"

"Why?!" she screamed

Luis’s hand tightened around his fork. Brenda noticed and quickly grabbed his arm to stop him from reacting, but his cold, hard stare stayed fixed on their daughter.

"Mia," Brenda said softly, "go to your room."

"No, I w—"

"Now." Her mother’s sharp glare stopped her mid-sentence.

Mia’s throat tightened. She swallowed hard, her lips trembling as she fought back more words.

"I hate you!" she cried, then turned and bolted up the stairs, her small feet pounding against each step.

David rolled his eyes. "What a drama queen," he muttered, stabbing at his food like nothing had happened.

Brenda shifted closer to Luis, gently rubbing his arm in that quiet, familiar way meant to calm him.

"I’ll handle her," she whispered, though his jaw was still tight with anger.

"If you can’t control your daughter, Brenda," Luis said lowly, "then I’ll have no choice but to do it myself."

Luis rose, wrenching his arm free from Brenda’s grip. He stalked up the stairs without another word.

Brenda watched him go, sighed, and stood.

"Oh, Mia… you might get us into trouble," she murmured, then followed, leaving David alone at the table, chewing as if nothing had happened.

Later that night, Luis sat in his home office, the anger from dinner still simmering beneath his skin.

His fingers jabbed at the laptop keys with sharp, impatient clicks while Brenda sat on the sofa nearby, quiet and watchful.

The room was still except for the mechanical clatter of keys and the faint hum of the desk lamp. Both of them sat in that heavy quiet, neither willing to break it.

Then Luis spoke. "You’ve prepared the dose, right?"

"I have," Brenda replied softly. "I just need her to fall asleep first like always before I inject her."

A low hum escaped Luis, the only sign of approval she’d get tonight.

The "dose" they spoke of wasn’t medicine in the true sense. It was a drug they secretly injected into Mia whenever she witnessed one of Axel’s punishments. It kept her quiet, clouded her memories, and dulled her emotions, ensuring she wouldn’t speak or act out the next day.

Meanwhile, Mia had quietly taken the keys from her parents’ room. With a small flashlight in one hand and a tray holding food and bandages in the other, she crept down the dim hallway toward the dark room.

She turned the key carefully in the lock and slipped inside, closing the door behind her. The air was cold and damp, thick with the smell of dust and dried blood. She switched on the flashlight, its narrow beam cutting through the darkness.

Axel lay on the floor, his back to her, breathing slow and uneven. His mouth hung slightly open, his face bruised and his eyes swollen shut. He didn’t stir.

Mia’s chest tightened at the sight. She hurried to him, setting everything down except the flashlight.

"Axel," she whispered, kneeling beside him. Her small hand trembled as she gently turned him over, cupping his bruised face.

"Axel," she said again, her voice cracking.

His eyelids fluttered open slightly, but the swelling was so bad he could barely see her.

Mia’s tears fell freely. She knew she couldn’t do anything - couldn’t call for help, couldn’t tell anyone what was really happening. All she could do was cry.

She leaned her head against his shoulder, her small body trembling as quiet sobs shook through her.

Her tears soaked into his torn shirt, but Axel didn’t move. He didn’t speak either. He was far too weak for that, so he just let her cry.