The Helpless of a Taiwanese Gym AthleteIt was a quiet, late ..

The Helpless of a Taiwanese Gym Athlete

It was a quiet, late night in Taipei, and the air was thick with humidity as Aaron, a gym athlete, walked home after an intense training session. His muscles ached from the workout, but the exhaustion gave him a sense of satisfaction. The neon lights of the city reflected off the wet streets, and the sound of distant traffic echoed through the empty alleys.
He adjusted his gym bag over his shoulder and kept his pace brisk. It was almost midnight, and the streets were deserted. Just as he passed a small, dimly lit park, Aaron noticed two men standing near a black van parked along the curb. Their faces were shadowed, but their eyes followed him with an unsettling intensity.

Aaron kept his head down, hoping to avoid any interaction, but as he walked past them, one of the men called out.

"Hey, excuse me! Do you know where the nearest convenience store is?"

Instinctively, Aaron stopped, though something in his gut told him to keep moving. He turned slightly, pointing down the street. "Yeah, it's just two blocks that way."

Before he could take another step, the second man moved swiftly, grabbing his arm with surprising strength. Aaron’s gym reflexes kicked in, but before he could react, the first man shoved him hard against the side of the van.

"Relax, man. We just need a favor," one of them sneered, his voice low and menacing.

Aaron struggled, but the two strangers were well-prepared. They pushed him into the back of the van, slamming the door shut behind them. His heart raced, and adrenaline surged through his veins. He tried to kick, to punch, but they quickly overpowered him, tying his hands and feet with coarse rope. The sound of the engine roaring to life drowned out his muffled protests as they sped off into the night.

After what felt like an eternity, the van finally stopped. They dragged him into a small, dimly lit hotel room. His mind raced, wondering who these men were and what they wanted. As they secured him to a chair in the center of the room, Aaron caught a glimpse of a tattoo on one of the men's arms—a symbol that looked familiar, but his mind was too clouded with fear to place it.

"Stay quiet, and you'll make it through this," one of them muttered before slamming the door behind him, leaving Aaron alone in the suffocating silence of the room. The distant sound of footsteps faded, and Aaron's mind churned with thoughts of escape, his athletic instincts taking over.

He knew he had to act fast before they returned.