Manacled Synopsis Novels & Stories

“What are you doing?” Seren asked fearfully as the man forced her onto the operating table. He strapped down her wrists and ankles, securing her so tightly that she couldn't move. “If you had been more careful, none of this would have happened,” the man said, pressing the tip of a sharp knife against her neck. His eyes were unfocused, as though he were speaking to someone only he could see. The sight terrified Seren even more. “Please-- don't do this,” she begged through tears.

He collapsed on the sand, convulsing, the stench of urine carried far on the wind. The party crowd that had gathered to watch earlier stood rigidly, not daring to breathe. They finally understood something. The man they had laughed at as a kept husband was the head of the Thornes, someone they weren't even qualified to approach! I held Luke close and spoke gently. "Luke, don't be scared. I'm here. No one will ever bully you again. I promise." Luke clung to my neck and nodded hard, letting out a small, muffled sound.

“What kind of bullshit are you spouting out? You look like a girl, and you dress like one, so don’t go spitting out crap about being something you’re not.” “Piss off shithead! Leave my baby brother alone.” I snap at the man. “Oh fuck off human garbage.” He snarls. The men forcibly sit them on the small couch against the wall. Nancy and Zach start crying in panic when they see Marcus holding mom with the knife at her throat. Megan pulls them close to her. Her eyes dark with anger as she lowly growls at the rogues who dragged them here. "What's going on here? Who are these people?" Nancy shakes violently with fear.

I don't know what for but ugh I don't really care. See you soon- Suddenly my diary was snatched away from my desk as I looked up and glared at the intruder. "Eric, you devil give me that back!" I screamed standing up and started running after my 6-year-old brother who ran with my diary in his hands. "Ah!" He shouted and giggled and ran down the stairs and into the living room. "Eric I'm going to fucking kill you-" I immediately halted when I entered the living room and saw an unfamiliar man sitting on the couch across from where my parents.

He kept looking from his father to the paper that he was flaunting to his face for acceptance and signing. "Tick-tock, time is going by." Cappuccino smiled like he meant no harm. To deal with a Maniac, one needed to be a maniac for a while and that was just the case with his son - Alexander Leonardo.

He was so angry but couldn't do anything about it so he just left. He knows that Vanessa clearly didn't want to be near him at that moment. From her actions and her words, he could tell. Manuel left the mansion and didn't return. In a dark warehouse, a woman was tied to a chair in the middle of a huge room, her hands were tied firmly behind her back on the metal chair. She was unconscious until a cold splash of water hit her face and she jerked up. Marina screamed as she noticed the darkness surrounding her, she tried to move but realized that her hands were tied at her back.

The man’s boot lifted to stomp on her pelvis as he wrenched the leg to the side, the joint snapping. She screamed. The blade rose. “And now?” came her voice. “What’s happening now?” The man sawed. His beloved screamed, pleaded, wailed, sobbed. And then— and then— the man with the mustard-colored work boots stood tall, her severed leg in hand. Ripped free, the stolen appendage gushed red. Blood pumped as ligaments flipped and tendons squirmed. He tossed it, his treasure landing behind him, swallowed by ravenous yellow.

A splitting pain erupted in my head and darkness over-shadowed my eyes. * * * My body jerked upright with fear as cold water splattered on my face. Panick seized my brain when my eyes fell on a bulry man on red T-shirt, he was standing in front of me holding a red bucket in his hand. I tried to stand up but my wrists and feets refused to move. Something sharp and cold dug into my skin. I looked down and saw that manacles were holding my hands and feet to a wooden chair. I tried to shout but my efforts were rendered useless by the piece of clothing used to gag me.

“Kill me. Finish it.” Camilla stepped closer, her voice low and filled with conviction. “No. We won’t kill you, Mancini. We’ll let you live with what you’ve done. Let you see what happens when you take everything from people who have nothing left to lose.” For a moment, there was silence. Mancini’s chest rose and fell in ragged breaths, and for the first time, Camilla could see the cracks in his armor. But even as he stood before them—defeated and broken—his pride held strong.

I can just make out the shape of two heads in the backseat. The door opens and I see a pair of khaki slacks. I squint my eyes to see who it is and my heart pounds, the alarm in my head sounding the warning to run. The man inside places a hand on the car door to help himself out. The watch. I know it. And I feel the blood drain from my face as Fernando Mancini steps out of the vehicle. Both he and my uncle turn to me. I make a sound and I realize when my body tries to move, to run, that I'm still bound at ankles and wrists while two soldiers hold me still.