Chapter 8 - The Captive Queen
I slowly regained consciousness, my head throbbing with an excruciating, blinding pain that made me dizzy.
I tried to reach up to touch the wound on the back of my neck, but my wrists were tightly bound to the arms of a wooden chair with heavy zip-ties.
The basement was dimly lit by a single, flickering bulb hanging from an old wire in the ceiling.
"You really are incredibly stubborn, David," my mother's cold, arrogant voice echoed through the damp room.
She stepped out of the shadows, wearing a pristine white dress that looked completely out of place in the filthy basement.
I ignored her entirely, frantically searching the dark corners of the room for any sign of my wife.
In the far corner, chained to a rusted iron bed frame, was Anna.
She was pale, sweating profusely, and breathing in short, rapid gasps as another powerful contraction ripped through her body.
"Anna!" I screamed, struggling violently against the heavy plastic restraints cutting into my wrists.
Anna looked at me with exhausted, terrified eyes, too weak to even speak my name aloud.
"Her water broke three hours ago," my mother announced casually, checking her expensive diamond watch.
"Once the baby dies from prolonged labor complications, the trust fund belongs entirely to me forever."
She explained her twisted plan to bury Anna in the woods and claim she ran away with another man.
I cursed my mother, screaming that she was an absolute monster who would burn in hell for this betrayal.
She just smiled warmly and pulled a long, terrifying medical syringe from the pocket of her dress.
"It is time for you to go back to sleep, my sweet boy," she whispered, stepping toward me with the needle raised.
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Just as the needle brushed against the skin of my neck, a deafening gunshot suddenly shattered the silence.
The small basement window exploded inward in a shower of broken glass, and a heavy tactical boot kicked the remaining shards away.
