The Mule 01

"Ethan, wake up!" boomed a deep voice with a hint of a Spanish accent, shattering the silence of the room. "It's time to rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty."

Ethan's eyes snapped open, expecting to be blinded by the light of a new day. But to his surprise, everything was pitch black. "What the hell? Where am I?" he growled, disoriented and groggy as he tried to make sense of his surroundings.

"You don't remember?" the man asked, his voice wavering as he walked around the room. “You’re in a hospital, of sorts.”

"I can't move!" Ethan exclaimed, panic rising in his voice. "What's happening? Where's Ava?"

"She is being taken care of," the man replied, his footsteps echoing through the silent room. "It's good to see that you care about someone else, but perhaps, for now, you should focus on yourself!"

"Why?" Ethan demanded, panic rising in his voice. "Was there an accident?" He tried to move his body but found tight restraints around his legs and arms holding him in place.

"No," the voice replied firmly. "There was no accident. You are exactly where you are supposed to be. Think, Ethan! Do you know which country you’re in?"

"I'm... I'm in Mexico!" Ethan replied, struggling against the restraints with all his might before finally giving in to exhaustion.

"Yes, that's correct," came the reply. "Tell me about the last thing you remember."

Ethan screwed up his eyes beneath the blindfold covering them and felt a sharp pain behind his blinded eyes before it oscillated back and forth. "I was on the beach with Ava. We were having fun," he gasped.

(See image 01)

The man hummed loudly, his voice dripping with contempt. "Your life is all about the pursuit of pleasure, isn't it? Taking what you want, when you want it, without a care for the feelings of others."

"What? No!" Ethan exclaimed, his voice rising in protest. "I do care about others. The only reason I’m here is to support my girlfriend while she has her boobs done. I’m even paying the bill.”

"I see," the man replied, his voice laced with scepticism. "And I'm sure you hate the idea of your girlfriend having larger breasts, right?"

"I... I... who are you? And what do you want?" Ethan groaned as another sharp pain shot across his cranium.

The man breathed out heavily through his nose. "Well, if you insist," he said before letting out a short, growling chuckle. "You see, Ethan, your vacation in Mexico is over! And you now find yourself in a very precarious situation – one that will likely define your future path."

Ethan's mind raced as he tried to comprehend the situation. Who was this man? Why was he restrained? And where was Ava?

"Please, just tell me what's going on," Ethan begged, desperation lacing his voice.

"All in good time, Ethan," the man replied, his voice dripping with amusement. "First, I need to know that you are ready to listen and understand the gravity of your situation."

Ethan nodded fiercely in the general direction of the man's voice. "I'm ready. Just tell me what's going on, please!"

"Very well," the man said as he edged closer to Ethan's bed. "You see, Ethan, you and your girlfriend have been kidnapped. And not just any kidnapping – you have been taken by a group of highly skilled and dangerous individuals who have very specific demands."

Ethan's heart raced as the full weight of the situation hit him like a ton of bricks. "Kidnapped? What demands? Who are you?" he exclaimed in utter horror.

As Ethan felt a set of fingers run up his face, the mask covering his eyes was suddenly ripped off, causing a blinding stream of light to assault his senses. Lying flat on his back, he squinted up at the perfectly aligned grid of tiles covering the ceiling as a fluorescent light in the centre flickered. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he strained his neck to take in his surroundings and started to panic. The sterile white walls, the shiny steel headboard of the bed, the smell of antiseptic in the air, the thick leather restraints he could feel binding his arms and legs! He was clearly in some kind of medical facility, but he had no idea where he was or how he had gotten there. The fear pulsing through him as he frantically searched for answers was paralyzing, and his mind raced with possibilities while his heart pounded in his chest.

"Do you recognize me, Ethan?" the man asked in a sinister tone as he moved his head into Ethan's line of vision.

With his eyes darting around to take in the features of the dark-haired Mexican man looming over him, Ethan felt that something about the man was familiar, but no matter how hard he thought, he just couldn't place him.

"Disappointing," the man said as he pulled back. "But I guess it has been a few years, and we only ever met once. Perhaps I can jog your memory. You were sitting across the table from me, telling your entertaining stories as my whole family listened intently. You were a hit that night – even Nana liked you, and she usually doesn't like anyone. But as you spoke, I couldn't help but focus on the smug, arrogant look on your face – a look that told me all I needed to know about you. That you were a man not to be trusted!"

(See image 02)

Petrified, Ethan struggled against his restraints as his breathing quickened and the feeling of someone sitting on his chest became even more prominent.

"Don't hurt yourself now," the man said with a deep chuckle. "I can assure you they are not going to break."

Ethan stopped struggling, but the panic he felt in that moment only continued to rise. "Hector?" he croaked.

"Bingo!" the broad-shouldered man exclaimed with a sinister glint in his eye as he clapped his hands together with glee.

"Please, Hector," Ethan begged, his voice trembling with fear as the full weight of his situation hit him. "I was young and stupid back then. We can work this out. I have money. I can pay you back."

Hector paused for a moment, his lips curling into a wicked smile as he let out a stomach-churning cackle. "Oh, you are going to pay for what you did to my family – but not with money. In fact, the process has already begun."

"What do you mean?" Ethan gasped, his voice hoarse and strained as he fought to speak through his dry, parched mouth. "What process?"

Hector stepped forward; his face twisted into a malevolent smile as he met Ethan's panicked gaze. "You'll find out soon enough," he snarled, his voice sending shudders down Ethan's restrained spine. "Let's just say that Ava never got her breast augmentation surgery, but the operation went ahead with a few added extras."

Ethan's mind raced as he struggled to decipher the cryptic message. And then, in an instant, understanding dawned on him, a realization so disturbing and horrifying that he almost choked.

"Shush, mi hermosa florcita," Hector cooed, reaching out to stroke Ethan's forehead with a twisted sense of affection. "Sleep now," he whispered, turning the dial to start the flow of liquid through the clear plastic tube attached to Ethan's wrist. "There will be plenty of time to chat when you are fully healed," Hector spoke in a menacing tone, the words dripping with threat.

"Hector!" Ethan gasped, his eyelid growing heavy as he tried to speak. "Hector, please! You..." Falling back into a deep slumber, Ethan’s sentence trailed off. Not that his words would have changed anything. For Ethan, there would be no escape, no reprieve. His destiny had been decided long ago.