Chapter 495: Captured

"It will be okay, Ryan..."

The six-year-old Ryan looked up through tear-filled eyes.

His mother was crouched in front of him, trying to smile.

There were bruises across her face and neck. One side of her lip was split, and blood had dried beneath her nose. More marks covered her arms and legs, some already turning dark beneath her skin. Her clothes were torn in places, and every movement seemed to cause her pain.

She looked exhausted.

Afraid.

But she still forced a gentle expression onto her face for him.

Ryan knew she was lying.

She was not okay.

He had seen what happened.

He had watched his father hit her. Watched him shove her against the wall. Watched her fall and struggle to stand again. The few times Ryan had tried to intervene, his father had turned on him instead.

A slap.

A kick.

A fist that had sent him crashing into the floor.

Each time, fear had taken hold of him before he could do anything else.

Ryan was weak and small.

Unable to protect himself, let alone his mother.

So she had protected him instead.

Whenever his father’s anger had turned toward him, she had thrown herself between them. She had taken the blows meant for Ryan. She had curled her body around him and endured every strike while telling him not to be afraid.

Now she was bleeding because of it.

"M...Mommy..." Ryan whispered.

His voice trembled as he reached toward her face. His small fingers hovered near her split lip.

"You’re bleeding."

His mother quickly wiped the blood away with the back of her hand.

"I’m fine, honey," she said.

Her voice was soft, but Ryan could hear the strain hidden beneath it.

"It’s nothing."

She touched his cheek and carefully brushed away one of his tears.

"You aren’t hurt, are you?"

Ryan shook his head.

His body hurt, but he did not want her to worry about him. She was already hurt enough.

"That’s good," she whispered.

Relief briefly crossed her tired face.

"That’s good, my little boy."

She pulled him into her arms.

Ryan clung to her immediately, wrapping his small arms around her waist and pressing his face against her chest. He could feel her heart beating rapidly beneath his cheek.

"M...Mommy..."

His voice broke again.

He had been trying not to cry.

He failed.

His mother held him tighter.

"It will be fine," she whispered into his hair. "I won’t let anyone hurt my little boy."

Ryan squeezed her as tightly as he could.

But even through the warmth of her embrace, he felt her body shudder.

She was trembling.

Maybe because of the pain.

Maybe because she was still afraid that his father would return.

Ryan did not know.

He only knew that she was frightened too.

After a moment, she gently pulled away and placed both hands against his cheeks.

Her smile was weak, but she tried to make it reassuring.

"Come on," she said. "I’ll make a nice meal for you."

She slowly stood and reached for his hand.

Ryan took it immediately.

Her fingers were bruised, but they still closed around his own.

He squeezed her hand as they walked away together.

For a short while, he allowed himself to believe her.

It would be okay.

Everything would be fine.

Or at least, that was what he needed to believe.

"Ughnnn!"

Pain dragged me out of the dream.

My eyes opened sharply, and the first thing I felt was a brutal ache spreading through my ribs.

I clenched my teeth and tried to breathe through it.

The memory had been painful.

Not because it was frightening. Not anymore.

I had lived through worse things since then.

But seeing my mother again had made it worth remembering.

Her gentle face.

Her gray eyes.

That reassuring smile she had always given me, even when she was the one who needed reassurance.

For a few precious moments, she had been alive again.

She had been beside me.

I had wanted the dream to continue forever.

But reality had pulled me back.

I tried to move my hand against the ground. My fingers curled weakly into the dirt, and I forced my blurry eyes open.

The world slowly took shape.

A dark sky.

Uneven ground.

The metallic taste of blood in my mouth.

And Gaspar standing a short distance away, smiling down at me.

My vision swam.

I tried to push myself up.

I barely managed to lift my torso before a boot slammed into my ribs.

The impact drove the air from my lungs.

"Ghk!"

I collapsed again, clutching my side.

Pain exploded through my body.

It was unbelievably sharp, far worse than it should have been. I had taken worse hits before. My body was enhanced. Dullahan’s fluids strengthened my bones, my muscles, and my ability to regenerate.

Normally, even a beating like this would not have left me feeling so helpless.

But this was different.

After I had fallen, I remembered seeing Rachel and the others escaping. I remembered trying to make sure they reached the boats.

After that, my memory became fractured.

There had been shouting.

Then the attacks began.

Several people had surrounded me and beaten me without restraint.

Punches struck my face.

Kicks crashed into my stomach, chest, and abdomen.

Someone had hit me in the back. Another blow had caught the side of my head. I remembered falling, trying to rise, and being knocked back down again.

Enhanced body or not, there was a limit to how much hits I could take.

Eventually, I had blacked out.

Now I could smell my own blood running down my face.

It dripped from my nose and mouth, soaked into my clothes, and stained the ground beneath me.

But even that was not the only reason I felt so weak.

Something about the pain felt familiar.

My thoughts drifted back to training with Marlon.

The anti-Symbiote collar.

Whenever I wore it, Dullahan’s abilities had been sealed away. My strength, speed, healing, Plasma, and wind had all been suppressed. Even ordinary injuries had become difficult to endure.

This felt similar.

No.

It was worse.

Hundreds of times worse.

Marlon had used the collar to train me. He had pushed me to my limits, but he had never truly wanted to destroy me.

These people had no such restraint.

I raised one trembling hand toward my neck.

My fingers brushed against cold metal.

I froze.

There was a collar around my throat.

It was not the same design as the one I had. The surface felt rougher, heavier, and more industrial. Small ridges pressed into my skin, while something beneath the metal gave off a faint vibration.

But its purpose was obvious.

The moment I touched it, I felt Dullahan’s presence recoil inside me.

My abilities were gone.

The connection to my Symbiote had not disappeared completely, but it had been forced down so deeply that I could barely sense it. My enhanced strength was sealed. My enhanced healing was suppressed.

That was why the pain felt unbearable.

That was why every breath seemed to tear through my ribs.

I slowly lowered my hand.

Yeah.

I was powerless.

There was no way out for me now.

I could not even laugh at the situation.

This was the worst-case scenario.

I had thought about it before.

Maybe some part of me had sensed that something would go wrong. The rescue plan had been too dangerous, and everything depended on too many things going perfectly. Tommy had to get everyone out. The boat had to remain hidden. Rachel and Lucy had to reach the shore. Gaspar could not discover us too early.

There had been too many opportunities for failure.

That was why I had spoken with Christopher and Lucy.

I wanted them prepared.

But honestly, I had not expected the worst-case scenario to become reality so quickly.

Still, I did not regret it.

Because I had seen them escape.

While the guards were beating me, I had caught glimpses of the water through the chaos. I had seen Rachel’s barriers protecting the boat. I had seen Lucy carrying Keith. Tommy had pushed the cart with Mei while Emily remained hidden beneath the covering.

They had reached the shore, reached the other side.

Mei, Emily, Tommy, and Keith had escaped Brigantine.

Rachel and Lucy were alive.

Nobody had chased them across the water.

That was enough.

I had been prepared to put my life on the line for them. I had known that something like this could happen before I stepped onto the shore. If protecting them meant being captured, then I would accept it.

The only thing I still worried about was what happened afterward.

I hoped Christopher would do what I had asked.

I hoped he would stop Sydney and the others from immediately rushing back into Brigantine with no plan beyond finding me. If they came here now, they would not rescue me.

They would only place themselves in Gaspar’s hands.

No.

I trusted Christopher.

And I trusted Rachel too.

She would understand, even if it destroyed her emotionally. She would understand that going back immediately would not save me. She would make Sydney and the others understand.

At least, I hoped she would.

"Uhnn!"

A boot drove into my abdomen.

The pain tore through me.

I coughed violently, and blood spilled from my mouth onto the ground. My body curled instinctively around the impact, but that only made the pain in my ribs worse.

I was almost certain several of them were broken.

Every breath felt as if fractured bones were grinding against the inside of my chest. One sharp movement made it feel as though the broken ends were piercing into my organs.

I clenched my teeth and squeezed my eyes shut.

Tears gathered at the corners of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

I could not give them that.

"Now, now," Gaspar said with a quiet chuckle. "Romero, how are you treating our little guest?"

"Guest?" Romero snarled.

His voice came from somewhere above me.

"That little shit took my ear."

Gaspar only smiled.

"Don’t worry," he said. "We’ll have plenty of time with him now."

His voice became colder.

"Get him. I know the perfect place."

A hand closed around my ankle.

Before I could react, Romero dragged me across the ground.

My back scraped against the rough surface. Stones and debris cut into my skin, but the pain from my ribs was so intense that everything else became meaningless.

I tried to resist.

My fingers clawed weakly at the ground.

Without Dullahan’s strength, I could not stop him.

My body slid across the dirt as if I weighed nothing.

The darkness around me blurred. My vision had already been clouded by blood leaking from my forehead and running into my eyes. Shapes moved in and out of focus as Romero hauled me toward a nearby house.

Then my body struck the first step.

Pain erupted through my spine.

I gasped.

Romero did not stop.

He dragged me up the stairs, allowing my back and shoulders to slam against each step. My head struck the edge of one of them, and bright flashes burst across my vision.

I could barely see the house.

Only a dark doorway.

Broken wooden boards.

A weak light somewhere inside.

Then the front door opened with a long, creaking sound.

Romero pulled me through.

The floor struck beneath me before he dragged me across it again. My fingers brushed against dusty wood, but I could not find enough strength to grip anything.

A moment later, he began dragging me down another set of stairs.

Down into the basement.

The air became colder the farther we went. It smelled of damp earth, old wood, blood, and something rotten hidden beneath the walls.

My shoulder struck the steps.

Then my hip.

Then my ribs.

By the time we reached the bottom, I could barely keep my eyes open.

Romero released my ankle.

For a moment, I remained motionless on the floor.

Then he grabbed the back of my shirt and threw me across the basement.

My body slammed into the wall.

"Ghk!"

The impact forced a broken gasp out of me.

Pain spread through my chest and back. I slid down the wall and collapsed onto the floor, struggling to breathe.

Gaspar’s footsteps descended the stairs.

He looked around the basement before turning his attention to me.

"Look at that," he said. "All this space for you, Ryan."

I tried to raise my head.

Gaspar smiled.

"I had someone else like you down here once. A girl."

Emily.

My stomach twisted.

"She managed to escape," Gaspar continued. "Thanks to you."

He crouched slightly, looking at me with amusement.

"But now you’re going to take her place."

Romero moved behind me.

I felt his hand seize my shoulder and drag me farther across the floor. He pulled me toward the wall before throwing me against it again.

My head struck the concrete.

The world spun and I tasted blood once more.

"And you aren’t alone," Gaspar said.

His voice came from my left.

"Don’t worry. I knew you would feel lonely so I just added you a company."

I forced my eyes open.

At first, I saw only a dark shape against the opposite wall.

A man was lying on the basement floor.

He was badly beaten. His clothes were torn, and his face was swollen. Blood had dried along his forehead and cheek. Metal restraints were fastened around his wrists and ankles, chaining him to the wall.

He did not move.

For a moment, I could not identify him.

Then the shape shifted slightly.

My eyes widened.

Callighan.

What the hell?

He was unconscious on the floor, beaten nearly as badly as I was.

I stared at him shocked.

Why was he here?

What had Gaspar done?

The questions crowded my mind, but exhaustion and pain made it difficult to think.

Gaspar walked toward me and crouched in front of me.

I shifted my gaze away from Callighan and glared at him.

The expression probably lacked the strength it once had. My face was swollen, my vision was blurred, and I could barely hold my head upright.

But I still glared at him hatefully.

Gaspar’s smile widened.

"I’ll give you credit," he said. "You’re still capable of holding that glare after the beating."

He leaned closer.

"But believe me, it won’t last."

His voice became softer, almost gentle.

"I’m not going to give you the same treatment I gave little Emily."

My hands curled weakly against the floor.

Gaspar’s eyes gleamed.

"What’s waiting for you will be much worse."

He reached out and gripped my chin, forcing my face upward.

"I’m going to break you, Ryan."

His fingers tightened.

"I’ll keep breaking you until you beg me to become my loyal little dog."