Chapter 43: Chapter 43 Stung by the scorpion.
The images pressed tighter, all of them crumbling at once. He could still feel it—the hatred, the spiteful words that poured endlessly from his father’s mouth. And the darkness wasn’t the least bit helpful in dissolving the poison that dripped from those lips.
"Why did my wife ever give birth to such a deformity?" Alessandro mocked, irritation flashing in his eyes as he watched Daniel’s walk.
Daniel tried to keep his feet straight. He was holding a block in his hands, part of a brutal routine meant to reconstruct his already feminine frame, a forced attempt at building muscle through daily exercises.
"Dad, I can’t go on. My legs hurt," Daniel pleaded, nearly collapsing as the weight of the doubled blocks made him stumble. His face almost smashed against an iron bar, and if not for him carefully catching his ground, he would have looked like a smashed potato. But the heartless father didn’t care.
"Continue!" Alessandro barked, stunning him into silence.
Daniel could almost see himself crying. He hadn’t tasted a meal all day, and his mother—who would have brought him food—was nowhere to be seen.
"I’m hungry, Dad. After I’ve rested, I’ll continue," he whispered.
The forbidden words triggered Alessandro’s rage. Like a beast, he lunged at Daniel, raining countless slaps on him until the boy fell, his head cracking against the ground.
"Don’t you talk back to me, you boy-pussy. And don’t call me Dad with that cursed mouth of yours. You’re no son of mine." Alessandro spat bitterly, his eyes cutting deep into Daniel’s trembling form. Shaking like an epileptic patient, Daniel scurried backward.
"Once again, no dinner for you. And tonight, you’re spending time in the cupboard." Alessandro’s words were like a death sentence. Daniel collapsed to his knees, crying and rolling on the ground.
He couldn’t endure that place again. Locked in there, he might run mad.
"I’ll do it again. I’ll carry the block. I’ll try to stop acting feminine. Anything—just don’t lock me in there." Daniel pleaded with every shred of his heart.
But his words only tripled the old man’s rage, making it burn hotter than a rod fresh from the fire.
"Haven’t I warned you? Men don’t cry, you cunt. Fine. Since you haven’t learned, then it’s the cupboard or nothing." Alessandro declared coldly. He dragged Daniel, hoisting him over his shoulders like a lifeless thing.
Daniel kicked and cried, earning only a deadly slap across his back. Finally, Alessandro reached his study, pressed a hidden button, and the huge cupboard creaked open. It was pitch dark, filled with crawling insects. Without a glance back, Alessandro threw Daniel inside like trash and walked away.
And that was the moment Daniel knew his father had disowned him. Alessandro never said it, but in his heart, he had ceased to be his son. Daniel had only been sixteen.
Back in the present, Daniel wiped his tears and tried to lift his head, but even that small act felt like war. His back groaned in agony, and his feet throbbed mercilessly.
"Haaa..." he let out, attempting to rise, only to fail miserably and collapse again like a pile of dirt. His whole body screamed in pain.
He scanned the room, searching desperately for something to help him stand. His hands brushed against a wall, and strangely, that touch made him smile.
"There it is..." he whispered, using it for support, dragging himself toward the stairs in hopes of escaping the dark basement.
His mental health was on fire. If he remained in this suffocating pit till morning, he might just end his own life out of sheer frustration. And that wasn’t an option.
"Breathe out, Daniel. It’s just the dark. Nothing will harm you. There are no monsters here. You won’t die," he muttered to himself, determined not to let his father’s twisted ideology about child sex corrode his mind.
He would get out of this cage. Find his way back to civilization. And then exact revenge on all of them—kill every last soul in that crew, make them bleed until they no longer breathed.
Omega or not, he would prove it could be done. Not for anyone else—but for himself. He owed no one an explanation.
But as he searched blindly, his hand brushed against something curved. He frowned, tracing it carefully. It shifted slightly, but curiosity drove him to explore it further. He had no idea the danger waiting for him.
Finally, he realized what he had been touching—and horror washed over him.
It was a scorpion. One that could literally crawl through the walls.
He yanked his hand back, but it was too late. Threatened, the scorpion’s tail lashed forward, stinging him without hesitation.
"AHHHHHH!" Daniel screamed, his cry echoing wildly through the dark room.
"My hand—nooo! God, no! I don’t want to die!"
Terror surged through him as the poison spread. His nerves spiked, his chest tightened. He struggled to breathe, hyperventilating as though the oxygen had been snatched from the air.
He crumpled to the ground, writhing like a woman in labor. But then—a faint glow pierced the dark. A thin sliver of light slipped through an unseen gap, landing on him.
The glow widened, and suddenly the room hummed as something powered on. In a flash, the whole space lit up.
Daniel’s eyes widened. Crawling roaches filled the room—little ones, fat ones, even the huge bouncy ones that could fly.
Anxiety clawed at his throat, choking him.
"Ewww, ewww, no! Gross!" he cried, scampering frantically until he stumbled onto the staircase.
Fueled by pure adrenaline, he forced his way up the countless steps. His legs screamed in agony, his wounds bleeding afresh, but he didn’t stop until he reached the top. Only then did the board beneath him crack and collapse, crashing against him with a wave of pain.
His hand throbbed, the sting turning black and purple by the minute. His face twitched, dizziness swallowing him whole. He was about to pass out.
At the door, he saw a figure he least expected.
Alexander McQueen.
What was that annoying creature doing here—after leaving him to his worst fate?
"Why are you here? Oh wait, no—don’t bother explaining. I don’t give a damn anymore." Daniel snapped, trying to walk past him, but Alex blocked the way.
"You’re in bad shape. If you want to run from here, you’ll need strength," Alex said calmly, gripping Daniel’s shoulders.
"I’m not asking for forgiveness, but this isn’t the time to fight. Your survival depends on it. If you don’t run before tomorrow, you’re finished. Adrian—the boss—will be back." His voice dropped, his eyes sharp. "And trust me, you don’t want to know what he has in store for you."
He stretched out his hand. Daniel hesitated, then placed his cold, clammy palm in his.
"Daniel, you’ve been stung? What the fuck—you didn’t say anything?" Alex gasped, but Daniel was already slipping away. His eyes closed, his body turning cold.
Alex’s face paled instantly. Without another thought, he scooped Daniel into his arms—bridal style—and bolted to his room.
"Nothing will happen to you, Daniel. Things must go as planned. Your health is my top priority," Alex whispered, laying him gently on the bed before rushing to action.
Operation: Save Daniel.