Betrayal

Brian looked down at his best friend Josh. The spiked beer had slowly worked, and Josh was unconscious, bare-chested, looking as if he was merely asleep in his best friend's arms.

"Sorry I had to betray you, Josh, but you're worth a lot of money," Brian whispered. "Now I'm going to take you to the old barn and tie you up."

Brian dragged Josh's limp body into the abandoned barn at the edge of town. Dusty shafts of sunlight pierced through the weathered boards as Brian propped Josh against a support beam. He pulled several coils of thick rope from his backpack.

"This should hold you," Brian muttered, beginning with Josh's wrists. He crossed them behind the beam, wrapping the rope in tight figure-eight patterns, cinching between the wrists to ensure there was no slack. Each loop was methodical, precise—as if he'd practiced this. He knotted the ends where Josh's fingers couldn't reach.

Next came the rope around Josh's chest, pinning him firmly to the beam. Three separate bands—one across his shoulders, another at mid-chest, and the third just above his waist—each pulled taut enough to restrict movement but not breathing.

Brian then secured Josh's ankles together with the same careful attention, wrapping and knotting the rope until escape seemed impossible.

As Brian finished securing the final knot, Josh began to stir, groaning softly. Brian quickly took out his phone and began taking photos of his captive friend, evidence for the ransom demand he planned to send.

Josh's eyes fluttered open, confusion rapidly turning to shock as awareness dawned.

"Brian? What... what are you doing?" Josh struggled against the ropes, his bound arms straining uselessly behind the beam.

"Securing my future," Brian replied coldly, though his hand trembled slightly as he took another photo.

"Why? We've been friends since we were kids! Untie me!" Josh's voice rose in panic as he fought against his restraints.

Brian avoided his gaze. "Your parents have money. Mine don't. It's just business."

"Business? This is kidnapping! This is ME, Brian!"

Hours passed with Josh alternating between pleading and reasoning with his captor, each word hitting Brian harder than he'd anticipated. Memories of their shared childhood played in his mind—building forts, first day of school, fishing at the lake every summer.

"Remember when you stayed with us after your dad left?" Josh asked quietly. "My parents treated you like their own son."

Brian's composure cracked. Tears welled in his eyes. "Stop."

"We're brothers, Brian. Not by blood, but by choice. How can you do this?"

"I said STOP!" Brian shouted, grabbing a piece of cloth and roughly gagging Josh. But it was too late—the damage was done. Brian sobbed, slumping against the wall.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I can't do it."

Brian stood abruptly, grabbing his backpack. "I'm leaving the state. It will take some time, but you'll get free." He paused at the barn door. "Forgive me, friend."

The heavy wooden door slammed shut, leaving Josh alone, bound to the beam, as Brian's footsteps faded into the distance.

Josh woke with a jolt, his neck stiff from hours slumped against the beam. Moonlight now streamed through the gaps in the barn's wooden slats, casting stark shadows across the dirt floor. His mouth was painfully dry around the cloth gag, his wrists throbbing where the rope had chafed them raw.

Despite his exhaustion, a renewed determination surged through him. He wouldn't just wait here to die. There had to be something—anything—he could use.

Josh noticed a rusted nail protruding slightly from the beam about eight inches above his bound hands. If he could just position his wrists right, maybe he could catch the rope on it and saw through the fibers.

He pushed himself up slightly, straining his already aching shoulders to lift his bound wrists higher behind him. The position was excruciating, forcing him to arch his back unnaturally against the tight chest bindings. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he blindly scraped the rope against where he thought the nail was.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours. The awkward position sent shooting pains through his shoulders and back. Several times he had to rest, slumping down and gasping through his nose as his muscles screamed in protest.

When he felt the nail catch slightly on the rope, a surge of hope gave him renewed energy. He worked the rope against the rusty protrusion with desperate focus, ignoring the burning in his shoulders and the wet warmth of what must be blood running down his wrists.

But after nearly an hour of effort, the nail bent under the pressure. Josh felt it give way with a sickening certainty that crushed his hopes. He slumped down again, utterly defeated, a muffled cry of frustration escaping through the gag.

As the night deepened, something shifted inside him. The desperate sadness began to harden into something else—something cold and sharp. With each throb of pain from his abraded wrists, each uncomfortable shift against the ropes that held him immobile, Josh's thoughts of Brian transformed.

The childhood memories that had once been precious now felt like lies. Every shared secret, every moment of supposed brotherhood—all of it poisoned by this final, unforgivable act.

"You knew exactly what you were doing," Josh thought bitterly, remembering the methodical way Brian had wrapped the ropes, creating the precise pattern that now held him so effectively. "This wasn't impulsive. You planned this. Practiced it."

By dawn, Josh's throat was parched, his lips cracked and bleeding around the gag. His shoulders had gone from screaming pain to a worrying numbness. But the physical discomfort paled compared to the emotional transformation taking place within him.

If—when—he got out of this, things would never be the same. The Josh who had trusted freely, who had believed in the fundamental goodness of others, was dying a slow death in this barn, strangled by the same ropes that bound his body.

In his place, someone harder was emerging—someone who would never allow himself to be vulnerable again. Someone who would hunt Brian down and make him pay for this betrayal.

As morning light filtered through the barn, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air, Josh stared blankly ahead, conserving his strength and nursing his growing hatred like a precious flame that would keep him alive until someone found him.

Or until he found a way to free himself and exact his revenge.