DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN BEYBLADE OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS. THIS IS JUST A FAN-MADE STORY!
"No...it-it can't be!" my father stammered, staring at me with wide eyes full of recognition.
"D-dad...?" I asked, gazing up at them.
My mother slowly turned her head and looked at me. She appeared so weak that she could barely keep herself upright.
"Is it...is it Kai? Is...is that my son?" she said, trying to come closer.
Voltaire let out a humourless laugh, kicking me in the side: "Yes, this pathetic little brat is your son. Hard to believe that you can actually recognise him Esme, I'd have thought that your retarded mind could never have been capable of such a thing!"
"Mum...dad..." I rasped, spitting out blood.
"Kai!" my dad yelled, trying to come closer.
"I never said you could touch him," said Voltaire in a taunting manner, stepping in front of me to block his way.
"Please!...Let...let me see them...please," I begged, my voice scratchy with damage.
"Hah! Very well then! But only on one condition!" said Voltaire, grinning at me with dark satisfaction.
"What are you planning this time, Voltaire?" my dad spat out his name hatefully. It was clear that he obviously didn't think of him as a father anymore either.
"I will only let you see him, if you promise to work alongside me and do my every bidding! Without question! Or else," Voltaire whipped out a dagger and held it pressed to the back of my neck: "He's dead!"
My mother gasped, tightening her hold on dad's torn shirt. Their faces were both masks of fear and confusion. If they were to accept, then they would become his slaves and be constantly humiliated. But if they were to decline...
"Very well! We accept! As long as you promise to let us see our son!" dad ordered sternly, rubbing mum's back comfortingly. I could see the faint glimmer of tears snaking down her cheeks.
"Very well! Go on then, slaves! Take a look at your precious son!" Voltaire shouted triumphantly, dropping the chain onto the ground beside me. As he made his way out, he slammed the door behind him and turned the lock, securing us in.
My parents rushed towards me, and flung themselves on me, embracing me fiercely. I longed to hug them back, but my bound hands wouldn't let me. Since they were locked with iron, they couldn't unlock them either, so I just pressed my face into my mother's chest and allowed my father to stroke my hair. They were both crying, my dad silently and my mother loudly. They had both missed me so much, and now that I knew that they had left against their will, I realised how glad I was to see them too.