Keith was jolted awake as the cold iron grip of two guards hauled him out of his cell. He could barely shuffle his feet, his body a battered mess of bruises and aching muscles. Each step sent a jolt of pain through his legs, and he stumbled, forcing the guards to drag him unceremoniously toward the exit.
"Where are you taking me?" he rasped.
"We are transferring you to another jail." A cold reply came.
Transferring to another jail?
Keith had a feeling that something wasn’t right. Why now? They could have done this the next morning.
The night air hit him like a slap, making him shudder. Before he could gather his thoughts, he was shoved into the back of a van, the door slamming shut behind him. Keith slumped against the wall, his breath shallow and rapid.
Up front, one guard slid into the driver’s seat, starting the engine, while the other settled into the passenger seat. A thick glass partition separated Keith from them.
Keith groaned, his ribs aching from days of relentless beatings. He leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling, his mind a storm of fear and dread. The tortures he endured had been unrelenting—hours of pain, questions, and confessions. He had given them everything, every piece of information he knew. But the blows never stopped.
And now, in the dead of night, they were moving him. His gut twisted with a growing sense of foreboding. Suddenly, the realization hit him like ice water—this wasn’t a routine transfer. This felt like an execution.
Swallowing hard, Keith forced himself to sit up. Through the grimy glass partition, he could see the faint outlines of the guards in the front seats. "Where are you taking me?" he asked the same question.
Neither man responded.
"Hey!" He rapped his knuckles against the glass, his voice rising. "I’m talking to you. Where are we going?"
The man in the passenger seat turned abruptly and pointed a gun at him. "Shut up, or I’ll shoot you," he growled.
Keith froze, his blood running cold. He recoiled instinctively, pressing his back against the wall. His hands shot up in surrender, trembling slightly. "Okay, okay," he stammered. "I won’t say anything."
The guard held his gaze for a moment longer. Then he turned back to face the road.
Keith’s heart thundered in his chest as he sat rigid, every muscle taut with fear. The van rumbled onward into the night, the darkness outside as oppressive as the silence within.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the van screeched to a halt, jolting Keith forward. His eyes darted toward the window, straining to make sense of the shadowy surroundings.
The landscape was desolate, shrouded in an eerie stillness. No streetlights, no buildings, not even the faint hum of distant traffic—only the oppressive darkness stretched before him.
Keith’s stomach churned as he realized the chilling truth: this wasn’t a jail. "What is this place? Where are we? This isn’t a jail!" Panic laced his words as his mind raced with fear. "What are you going to do to me?"
The two men ignored him. Without a word, they yanked the van’s door open. Keith tried to resist, his weak and battered body thrashing futilely, but they grabbed him by the arms and hauled him out with ease.
Keith’s knees buckled, but the guards didn’t pause, dragging him toward the looming woods ahead. His heart pounded erratically in his chest.
"Please," he begged. "Don’t kill me. Please, I told you everything I know. Just let me go!" His pleas fell on deaf ears, their grips like iron shackles pulling him deeper into the darkness.
The woods seemed alive, the rustle of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl adding to the sinister ambiance. The towering trees reached skyward like twisted sentinels, their branches forming grotesque shapes in the faint moonlight.
Keith’s every step felt like a march toward his doom, his eyes darting around as though the shadows themselves were watching him, mocking his helplessness.
And then he saw it—a faint glow in the distance. His breath hitched. ’What is that?’ He squinted, trying to make sense of the hazy flicker that seemed to float among the trees.
As they neared the faint glow, the outline of a decrepit house emerged through the dense trees. Keith’s mind screamed, ’A house? Here? In the middle of nowhere?’ His legs felt like lead, his body refusing to move forward.
"Keep moving," one of the policemen snarled as he yanked on Keith’s arm and forced him forward until they were inside the house.
They shoved Keith down with brutal force, and he crumpled to the floor, landing hard on his hands and knees. The rough, dusty surface scraped his skin, but the sting was a distant sensation compared to the raw terror gripping his heart.
Struggling to lift himself, Keith’s eyes darted upward—and froze. Standing before him was a tall, commanding figure, his face illuminated by the faint light of the bulb overhead.
"Officer Steward," he whispered. His worst fears were confirmed. He was brought there to be executed. "Why... why did you bring me here?" His words tumbled out in a frantic rush. "I confessed, and I’m serving my sentence in jail. Every day, I’ve been enduring the torture. Isn’t that enough? Why do you want me dead?"
Steward’s expression was devoid of pity, his eyes cold and calculating. "Because you crossed someone you should never have crossed."
Keith’s blood ran cold as he realized Theodore was behind all this. "Theodore Reid," he mumbled in a daze.
"Exactly. Theodore Reid wants you dead."
Keith’s breath came in short, shallow gasps. "No! Please, don’t kill me!" he begged with desperation. "You’re a law officer. If you do this, your career, your life—it will all be ruined. Please, have mercy!"
Steward let out a humorless chuckle. "Don’t concern yourself with me. I know how to cover my tracks. It’s simple. These officers will report that you tried to escape during transport. They’ll say they had no choice but to shoot. And trust me—no one will question it."
Keith’s body trembled violently, his tears streaming unchecked down his face. "No... no... please..."
Steward stepped closer and drew his gun, the cold barrel pressing firmly against Keith’s forehead. "You must die tonight," he said, "or your son will pay the price. Theodore demands a life, Keith—either yours or your son’s. The choice is simple."
Keith’s eyes widened in sheer horror. His body shook with the weight of despair, every ounce of resistance crushed under Steward’s merciless words. The gun pressed harder against his skin.
At that moment of despair, he was ready to do anything. "Please. I’ll do anything—just don’t kill me."
"Brace yourself," Steward said coldly, the metallic click of the gun unlocking reverberating through the room.
Keith recoiled instinctively, his knees scraping against the floor. "Wait! Please, wait!" he cried out. "I’ll do anything. Anything you want—just spare my life."
Steward’s lips curled into a slow, calculated smirk. "Anything, you say?" he drawled, lowering the gun slightly. "Fine. I can spare your life... but only if you answer a few questions. And you’d better be honest."
A flicker of hope sparked in Keith’s terrified eyes. He swallowed hard and nodded frantically. "Yes. Yes, I’ll tell you everything I know. Just ask."
Steward’s gaze flicked toward the door, his smirk deepening. "Not me. He will ask the questions."
Keith’s heart sank further, his head snapping toward the door. A shadow loomed, growing larger as it stepped into the dim light, his very presence seemed to drain the air from the room.
"Theodore," Keith whispered, his lips quivering. Every ounce of Keith’s courage dissolved as he gazed at him.
Theodore’s sharp, piercing gaze locked onto Keith. "Keith. We have much to discuss."
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
