With sleeves rolled up, veins popping out of his arms, Antonio rolled the hammer and nail in his hand, his clinical detached expression tells bullet he’s just getting started. He was drenched in his own blood and sweat; one of his eyes was red and swollen, while the other had blood dripping across his head. His heart was pounding with fear as he got untied and dragged to the table. His weak body couldn't fight; the men holding him, Ghost and Shade, were too strong. They laid him across the table, tied him up like he was about to be used for some bizarre experiment. Just that the air wasn't thick with the smell of disinfectant but fear and steel, the men weren't dressed in white coats but black suits. The torture room was unlike anything he's ever seen, and so was the pain coursing through his veins. But the worst part is, he didn't know what to think, what to say, he had pleaded, screamed for help, desperately asked him what he wanted, but this insane man hadn't asked him a da
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