The room was dark, smelly, and musty as Jason sat inside on a chair, his head down as he groaned softly. His hands were tied behind his back with a dirty white handkerchief. Jason's face was swollen and bruised, sobbing as blood dripped from his split lip.
His shirt was torn on his body, dust caked his dark hair, and his blue eyes were void of life as he sat in the darkness. He kept on sobbing silently, trying his best not to make a sound.
Suddenly, the door opened, and then light filtered into the cramped room. Jason winced as the harsh light struck his eyes. He raised his head and what he saw made his breath seize in his throat.
In front of him were three people. Two young men and a young woman. He knew them very well. They were the ones who had caused his fate and he was truly scared of them. Out of fear, he tried moving backwards but it was futile.
"Please don't kill me!" He croaked in fear, trying not to squeal in panic.
"You shouldn't have tried to leave the gang, Jason." The first man spoke, his white hair flowing in the gentle breeze that wafted into the room. "You know you still have not paid me the money you owe me."
"Terry, please just give me one chance!" Jason pleaded, struggling against the handkerchief. "Just one more chance and I'll get your money!"
"You tried to leave." Terry pointed out, his cold look giving Jason shivers. "To jump town and escape."
"I swear I wasn't! Please! You have to believe me!" Jason struggled harder against the rope, knowing exactly what was going to happen. It was inevitable, yet there was that tiny fragment of hope that he desperately wondered if it would not turn out to be what he thought.
The memories came suddenly as he knew he was at death's door. He knew the reason why he had gotten himself into this fate: weakness. It was as simple as that.
His life was hell since he was brought up in this world. He had been brought up in a poor family from birth. The only child. From a young age, he was brought up in suffering. His father and mother, disillusioned with life, made it their utmost mission to abuse him. His father had physically abused him to placate his anger. His mother was the worst. He had been used to placate her sexual needs, having been sexually abused at a young age.
He grew up with pain, fear, and suffering. He could have run. It would have been so simple. He could have made it out of the house he called hell and tried to survive on the streets. He surprised himself by staying. He couldn't believe it but he did. He knew why. He was scared of not making it on the streets, fear had also been drilled in him so badly that he wondered if he would try to escape, would his parents get hold of him. Will they make an example of him?
Then it was school. School was something else entirely. Elementary and middle school had been relatively boring and easier, but high school was hell. He was brutally bullied, mocked, and used as an outlet to satisfy his classmates' needs. Despicable things were done to him and he couldn't do anything about it.
Then the money problems began. He needed money badly. His parents didn't try to look for work again. Instead, they focused on him, abusing him to give them money. He started working. Odd jobs now and then that gave him a meager sum, and that was all. No one really hired him, deciding to stay away from the pathetic boy who brought bad luck rather than good. That was when he met Terry and his crew.
At first, he thought Terry was a good friend, giving him small sums of money now and then. He thought Terry was a godsend, sent to be his saviour. It was false. It was all a ploy. Terry had shown his true colours and then began demanding that he pay back all the money he had been 'borrowing ' in Terry's term. He knew Jason couldn't pay back. That was how Jason had found himself in a gang, Terry's to be exact, and he had to pay back the money to Terry for every work he did with the gang.
His girlfriend Amelia, whom he thought was actually in love with him, was also lying to him. She was Terry's girlfriend and had been sent to soften him and keep him close to them. When it had succeeded, she had dumped him immediately.
Jason worked to the bone for them. He didn't have a life of his own. He did jobs as he left high school, jobs that made him sick to the stomach; he had killed people, he had ruined lives, and it was all because of Terry. The enemies he had made were all because of Terry. He was trapped. That was why he tried to escape.
But he had been caught and now he was here. About to be killed so he had to beg.
"Please." He pleaded, tears falling from his eyes. "Please don't kill me."
Amelia placed a hand to her forehead in disgust, her cold eyes boring into him. "What an imbecile! Why did we even allow this pathetic animal to be with us?"
"He was useful." The other man replied, already brought up a cigarette, and was smoking. "Very useful."
"He's not any longer, Damon," Terry announced, removing something from his hands that made Jason freeze. It was a gun.
"You see, Jason," Terry spoke, a small smile forming on his face. "You may not know this, but I'm really grateful you were one of us. Your brain, your dedication, and your naivety really put our gang on the map and made us a force to be reckoned with. Now that you're no longer useful to us, I just wanted to say thank you."
Jason's head was down as Terry finished. He slowly raised his head and his eyes met Terry. For the first time in a while, Terry hesitated. What he was seeing in Jason's eyes wasn't the despair he was looking for, but he saw rage and promise of vengeance in his eyes. No words were said.
Terry aimed and pressed the trigger, ending the man he once used as his plaything for good. There was a loud bang and Terry knew he was dead.
Or so he thought.