Smoke

The night dragged on, cold and merciless, as the hours stretched endlessly.

The dim light in the room cast long shadows over the three men who were chained to the ceiling.

Tynan, Volkan, and Darth had reached their breaking point.

Their muscles screamed in pain, their bones felt as though they would snap at any moment, and every breath they took was a struggle.

Their bodies were drenched in sweat, clinging to their torn clothing, and the stench of their suffering hung heavy in the air.

Their wrists, rubbed raw by the chains, were blistered and bleeding.

Every slight movement sent waves of pain rippling through their bodies.

The relentless video had been playing for two days straight, a torturous loop of their parents being electrocuted to death.

The sight and sound of their loved ones' agony were burned into their minds, and each moment stretched into an eternity.