Chapter 1

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I was alone, at least for now.

My eyes burned like hellfire, my skin was on fire, and the air was so thick with smoke I could barely breathe. Felt like I was chewing on that shit. I couldn’t see, couldn’t fucking breathe, and I was pretty sure I was gonna die. Honestly, I couldn’t give two shits if I did.

Darkness. That’s what I remembered. It was cold, dead, a black hole of all the fucked-up shit in my life. Like a bad acid trip. It wrapped itself around me, digging into my skin like a snake, and I fought back, but it was like trying to swim through a tsunami. Fucking pointless.

My ribs were screaming in pain, felt like someone lit my chest on fire. Every breath was a struggle, every second, a battle to not completely lose it. I could feel the darkness crawling inside me, like poison in my veins. It was a constant fight to hold on, to not let the abyss swallow me whole.

I tried to shift, but the chains dug into me, reminding me I was locked down. Some sadistic bastard thought it’d be really funny to put a bag over my head, blinding me. My chest ached so bad I knew I didn’t stand a chance in hell if shit went down.

Footsteps. I heard them coming, but had no way of knowing if it was my own guys or the psychos keeping me tied up.

I yanked at the ropes. No give. Whoever did this wasn’t playing around.

My heart hammered in my chest like a machine gun, each beat slower than the last. Fucking torture, waiting for something to happen—either I’d be saved or shit was about to go south.

Then the door creaked open, and I couldn’t see a damn thing, the bag over my head keeping me blind and disoriented. But I heard them—the scrape of boots on concrete, the low murmurs in a language I didn’t understand but didn’t need to. Whoever these assholes were, they weren’t here to offer me a goddamn cup of tea.

Then came the sound of a chair scraping across the concrete, and the air around me shifted. Someone was close. Too close. My pulse hammered against my skull, and every instinct in me screamed to move, to fight, but the ropes biting into my wrists and ankles had other plans.

Suddenly, a rough hand yanked at the bag, the fabric scratching against my skin as it was torn off. The light hit me like a punch, blinding me for a second. When my vision cleared, I saw them—four assholes standing there, and the second I got a good look, I knew I was royally fucked.

Four of them stood there, no masks, no bullshit to hide behind. These weren’t some wannabe tough guys trying to scare me. No, these were the real deal—Taliban fighters, and their faces told me everything I needed to know. Their beards were scraggly and uneven, their clothes stained with dirt, sweat, and God knows what else. But it was their eyes that got me—cold, dead eyes, like they’d already made peace with whatever they had to do to me.

One of the bastards stepped forward, a grin splitting his face, crooked and jagged like a shark smelling blood in the water. Half his teeth were missing, and the ones left were more yellow than white.

His hand moved to his belt, pulling out a knife that gleamed under the dim, flickering light. It wasn’t some clean, shiny blade—it was old, worn, and probably had more than its share of blood on it.

He stepped back, his grin widening as he twirled the knife in his hand like he was about to carve into his favorite meal. I tried to shift, to move, to fucking do something , but my ribs screamed in protest, and the ropes held firm.

The fucker with the knife tilted his head, smiling like he’d already won. And maybe he had—for now. But he didn’t know me. He didn’t know what I was capable of, and if I got out of this alive, I was going to make sure he never smiled like that again.

The sick bastard chuckled. “We’re gonna have some fun.”

Before I could move, the cold blade was pressed against my cheek. It bit into my skin, making my whole body lock up. The fucker’s grin widened, his eyes locked on me like I was a piece of meat. He slowly dragged the knife down my collarbone, sending a wave of terror ripping through me. My throat closed up, but I forced myself not to panic.

That terror quickly turned into rage. I’d been in this kind of shit before, and I was still breathing. I locked eyes with him, letting him know I wasn’t breaking.

The fucker looked surprised, but then he grinned even wider. “Looks like we’ve got a tough one here,” he said to his buddies, who laughed like a pack of fucking hyenas.

He pressed the knife to my throat again, eyes cold and dead. The blade cut into my skin, but I clenched my jaw, refusing to give this prick the satisfaction of seeing me flinch.

“You’re not scared of dying, are you?” he growled, voice like gravel.

I didn’t say shit. I just glared at hi m, my neck muscle twitching.

“Good,” he muttered. “We like it when they struggle.” The blade left my throat, and his fingers pressed down on a scar I hadn’t even noticed before.

He leaned in close, his breath stinking like something crawled inside him and died. “You’ve been through this before, haven’t you?”

The others laughed again, their voices as grating as nails on a chalkboard. He sneered, breath hot and rancid in my face. “I can see it in your eyes—you’re thinking of how to get out of this alive.”

I fought the urge to puke from his stench. My head was spinning with all the shit I could do to try to survive. But fuck, I was tied down, my ribs were busted, and the air was so thick it felt like I was breathing through a straw. Every breath burned, my mind racing to stay focused.

“You’re gonna tell us everything we wanna know, soldier,” he hissed in my ear, hot breath on my skin.

“Go fuck yourself,” I snarled back.

He stepped back, shaking his head like I was a goddamn disappointment. “So much potential, but you’re too stubborn.”

He motioned to the others, and they grabbed me, shoving me hard onto the floor. The head fucker walked up, his face just inches from mine, and hissed, “There’s other ways to break you, soldier.”

“Bring it, asshole,” I spat, fury burning in my gut.

He raised an eyebrow like he was actually considering my challenge. “Brave, but stupid,” he said softly, turning to the others. “You’re just another cog in the machine. Replaceable. Nothing.”

I didn’t waste my breath responding. Just stared at him, silent, watching his every move.

“What were you doing at the warehouse last night?” he demanded.

I held his gaze. “Working,” I growled.

He studied me for a moment, eyes cold as ice. “Working?” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

“Yeah. Fucking working.”

He knocked the wind out of me, the hit sending me crashing onto the floor like a rag doll. Before I could react, another punch landed, harder this time. Blood filled my mouth, and I fought to stay conscious.

“I can do this all day,” the prick sneered, his voice oozing cruelty.

Every blow was like a damn wrecking ball to my face, pain blinding me with each hit. I was fighting to stay awake, but fuck me, the pain was overwhelming.

He kept punching, frustration bleeding through with every strike. “What were you doing there?” he snarled.

I gritted my teeth, pain ripping through my body. “Why don’t you go to hell?”

His face twisted in rage, eyes glowing with fury. “Then it’s time for you to pay, soldier.”

One of the other fuckers stepped up and kicked me hard in the ribs. I gasped, the pain shooting through me like a goddamn lightning bolt. I curled up, trying to protect myself as they took turns beating the living shit out of me.

Finally, one of the ropes snapped, and I felt my hands come free. But before I could do a damn thing, the head bastard grabbed me by the hair, yanked me to my feet, and slammed me against the wall.

“Now, talk.”

I coughed, blood dripping from my lips. “That is all you got?”

His grip tightened, choking me out again. My vision started to blur, but I didn’t give him the satisfaction of begging for mercy. The fucker grinned like a madman, his breath hot and foul as he leaned in close.

“We’re just getting started, friend.”

His grip tightened around my throat like a vice, fingers digging in with a sick kind of pleasure. It took every ounce of my willpower not to scream, not to beg for mercy. I knew that’s what the twisted bastard wanted—the fear, the submission—but fuck him.

I thrashed, trying to break free, but his hands were like iron chains. I couldn’t budge an inch. The harder I fought, the tighter his grip got, choking the life out of me. I gasped, desperate for air. Slowly, my vision cleared, and I glared up at the sick fuck, defiance burning in my eyes.

“That the best you got, you sick fuck?” I rasped, voice cracking from the pressure on my throat.

The bastard grinned down at me, those dead, soulless eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure.

“Oh no,” he giggled like some demented freak. “This is just the beginning.” His voice was like nails on a chalkboard, making my skin crawl.

I tried to speak, but all that came out was a weak whimper. My lungs screamed for air, my ribs on fire, each breath a losing battle. His grip seared into my neck, my nerves lighting up like a bonfire.

Pain was everything—blinding, crushing, consuming. But fear? Fuck that. Fear was dead to me. Death didn’t scare me anymore; it was a release I’d been craving for far too long. It was like the calm after a storm, a final break from this endless shitshow of suffering. And right then, death felt close—too fucking close.

The world spun around me, my vision flickering in and out. I didn’t want to keep going, didn’t give a fuck about surviving. I just wanted it all to end. The darkness crept in, wrapping me up, suffocating my mind.

But just when I was ready to give in, the bastard yanked me back, pulling me upright like a puppet. Air flooded my lungs, burning like acid, and my body spasmed with pain, but I was alive. Barely.

The darkness slipped away, but the agony didn’t. It stayed, digging into my soul.

I looked up at the prick towering over me, his grip loosened but still strong enough to remind me I was at his mercy. His eyes—those fucking empty eyes—bored into me, cold as ice.

“Not yet,” he hissed, his voice dripping with malice.

My fists clenched, body stiffening as I fought to stay conscious. His weight crushed me to the floor, every breath another slice of pain through my ribs. I couldn’t help it—I whimpered. A fucking whimper. But my voice was barely a sound. It wasn’t fear anymore, just pain. The kind that grinds you down until there’s nothing left but the will to keep fucking breathing.

I glared up at him with dead eyes, every breath an excruciating reminder of my mortality. I managed to suck in another painful breath, and forced out words through gritted teeth.

“You’ll have to try a hell of a lot fucking harder,” I wheezed, defiance lacing my voice, even though my body was begging for mercy.

My words hung in the air like a challenge, and he just stood there, his eyes still dead, breathing heavier now. That sick grin spread across his face again, eyes gleaming like ice picks ready to stab right through me.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

His smile stretched wider, his breath foul as hell, choking me with its stench. My own breath came in short, painful bursts, every muscle in my body screaming in agony.

I glanced around, trying to piece together how the fuck I ended up in this shitstorm. Everything was a blur—chaos and violence all mashed together in my head. One minute I was on a mission, and now this lunatic was trying to choke the life out of me.

I could hear distant shouts, a rush of air past my ears, but it didn’t make sense. Nothing did. My head was spinning, vision a goddamn mess.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to clear the fog in my brain. Darkness pressed in, my ribs aching, and a faint ringing buzzed in my ears. My throat throbbed from where that prick had nearly crushed it.

“Where’s my team?” I gasped, voice barely a whisper.

“They’re dead.” The words hit like a hammer to my gut, knocking the breath out of me. I tried to inhale, but the bastard’s grip on my throat made it impossible. Pain ripped through my chest.

“All of them,” he hissed, leaning closer, “and there’s not a goddamn thing you can do about it.”

His dead eyes bore into me, the weight of his words crashing down like a ton of bricks. My mind spiraled out of control, faces of my team flashing before my eyes, broken bodies, shattered lives. The prick’s words echoed in my head, mocking me, suffocating me under their weight.

Rage started to boil up inside me, the kind of fury that makes you want to tear the world apart. It surged through me like wildfire.

I glared up at him, my eyes burning with hate. “You want me to talk?” I growled. “How about you ask something fucking worth answering, like why your mom was such a cheap whore, or why you turned out to be such a sad, pathetic piece of shit?”

His face twitched with anger, but before he could react, I heard it—a sudden rush of air past my ears.

Then everything exploded.

The blast hit out of nowhere, shrapnel flying through the air. Smoke filled my lungs, thick and suffocating, burning like acid. I coughed, choking on it, my vision blurring in the sudden bright flash of light.

Screams echoed around me, but they were distant, like I was hearing them from underwater. I tried to stand, but the pain in my ribs was unbearable, each breath a dagger in my chest.

It was too late for forgiveness, not that I gave a fuck about that. I never prayed, and I wasn’t about to start now.

Religion was bullshit anyway. If God was real, He didn’t give a rat’s ass about what happened to us out here. He wasn’t gonna stop my team from getting slaughtered, and He sure as hell wasn’t gonna bring these sick bastards to justice.

I’d been a sinner from day one, my soul rotten as fuck, and I was fine with that. It gave me purpose—a reason to keep fighting, to survive. To live with the darkness inside me.

I let out a bitter, ragged laugh, the sound barely a wheeze. In that split second before the darkness swallowed me whole, I felt the sharp burn of a bullet tearing through my flesh, the pain ripping through my body like lightning. My head spun, thoughts racing in a frantic attempt to stay conscious.

But reality slipped away, and all that was left was darkness.

I was going straight to hell.

And I couldn’t fucking wait.