A hollow cry erupted as a mass of metal swung open, releasing a putrid stench emitted from the rotting body located directly below.
The once grey coloured floor had now been turned a dull crimson, most of the dried red substance culminating at one point of the corpse’s skull, where a large crevice appeared upon it’s lifeless cranium.
“Bawahahahah” erupted a jovial laugh. Standing atop the basement’s staircase stood a large figure who had similar features Derrick, equipped with a large grin upon his countenance.
“Derrick, my son, you always engaged in quite the blood thirsty activities, just as I did when I was young! However, It would seem that you did not also inherit my cautious nature! I’ve seen the CCTV footage and I must say, that little girl gave you a run for your money!” the man said, another series of deep laughter sounded out, echoing around the basement.
A multitude of thunderous metal pangs sounded out as the large figure slowly descended down the metal staircase, which seemingly groaned under his weight.
Now standing next to the corpse, the man lifted Derrick’s lifeless body on top of his shoulder and exited the basement. “My dear son, do not fret! I shall personally get revenge for you!” he claimed, as he read a sheet of information, containing the small girl’s name, place of residence and almost everything about her.
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A plethora of men and women, all of which had guns and tasers holstered upon their waist, gathered around a rectangular table, an authoritarian figure seated at the farthest end of the long table sat firm.
A deep voice sounded out, demanding the attention of all the important people seated around the table, “As you may know, my precious and harmless little girl, Natasha, has recently been killed by that despicable “Prideful Lion” gang! Their actions might as well have been a declaration of war, with me, the Chief of the capitol’s police force!” informed the large man, a large frown present upon his countenance.
The whole table burst out in surprise, collectively thinking the same thought. ‘That gang is being this forward? They’ve been lurking in the shadows for the better part of 50 years!’
The large man sighed before continuing to speak, “After their loss against their mortal enemy the “Crystal Palace”, famous for dominating the drug market, they’ve been on the down low for the better part of this century. It seems that they’ve finally gathered enough power to feel confident to draw war with us!” he confidently exclaimed, no doubt in his mind that his police force would obtain an overwhelming victory over the gang.
Cheers erupted from within the room, before another policeman burst through the door attempting to say something, “Sir! The head of the Prideful Lion gang, Epsilon Maxwell, has come to-” abruptly being cut short as a bullet entered his brain, consequently falling limp onto the blue carpet, now stained crimson.
The sound of gun’s being cocked back burst throughout the room as 30 or so men, some heavily wounded, walked into the room, a large man in formal attire standing in front. If one were to look at the corridor behind them, a scarlet graveyard could be used to describe the scene.
“Thomas! Long time no see, friend of mine!” said Maxwell, his arms stretching out as If he wished to hug the large man that was ten or so metres in front of him.
“Epsilon. Do you know the meaning of what you’ve done to my little harmless Natasha?” seethed the police chief. “You’ll never leave here alive!” he added, a giant smile grew onto his countenance.
At the mention of the purple haired girl, Maxwell gleamed back at the large man.
“Actually, friend of mine, you should be thanking me! I know who actually killed little miss princess that you adore so much! They should be thinking that they got away with it scot free by now!” he maliciously smiled, his fedora tipped forward covering his eyes which held a distinct look of bloodlust.
At the addition of this new information, Thomas shot up, gun in hand, and demanded to know the culprit, “If you know what’s good for ya, you better put that toy down.” calmly quipped Maxwell, as he used clicked his fingers, ten of men behind the pristinely dressed man dropped their coats revealing a plethora of primed explosives strapped to themselves.
All the police in the room slowly holstered their pistols, a look of disgust on their face as they stared at the criminals before them. “Alright, Fine. I’ll entertain ya. Who killed my precious daughter?” Thomas played along, his smile turning into a grimace.
“That’s more like it, old chap! Thank me later!” Maxwell smiled, throwing a folder of evidence onto the table before adding one final thing, “I’ll be taking my leave now!” strolling out of his enemies' headquarters.
Slowly reaching towards the files, Thomas ordered his subordinates to find out how they had managed to bring so many explosives through all the metal detectors in the building, one of his subordinates looked out into the corridor, immediately vomiting at the sight.
Opening the folder, he saw pictures of two individuals, the first, a small girl with orange hair, the second, a tall teen with short black hair. Looking at the motives, he threw the paper against the wall in disgust.
“There’s no way my daughter would do such a thing. Whatever, put a bounty on both of them, just in case. Send some cop’s after them as well, no handcuffs of course.” he scoffed at Epsilon’s audacity, the policewoman who received the order seemed to understand his intentions, ordering for a special police squad to be sent.
Walking out of the police station and into the familiar alleyways, the gangsters had started to burst out into laughter; “Boss, Boss, What an ingenious idea! Fake explosives! What guts to fool the police chief!” cried out a random gangster.
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Maxwell joined in on the laughter before ordering three of his subordinates to go after the pair of teens, “Tail the two teens. When the police go after the two, go save’em. Then they’ll grateful and join us since they’ll have no where else to turn!” he cackled, impressed with his own intellectual prowess.
Tilting his black fedora back up, he walked into the dark alleyway, his subordinates following him in tow, melding into to the shadows where they belonged.
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Everything had seemingly gone back to normal for the tall, black haired, teen. No body had been aware of the deaths of Derrick and the purple haired girl, allowing for Y/n to attend school as usual.
Unfortunately for Chloe, she had to spend her week in intensive care. After all, her injuries were not something that wrapping a few bandages could heal. Ensuring that no infections would come to pass and allowing her body to rest up was most of the reason as to why she couldn’t leave the uncomfortable bed.
The only scenery she had the pleasure of observing was the spotless white ceiling that she was forced to stare at for hours on end. Be that as it may, at least she had Y/n who frequently came to visit her so that she wouldn’t be to lonely.
The small, now once again, orange haired girl had already guessed that the older woman with whom she lived with would not take time out of her busy day to come see the injured teen. The past few days had been incredibly uneventful, boring the teen.
One the bright side, most of her injuries were recoverable, apart from the few quite severe ones such as her no-longer existent left eye, which was god knows where. Y/n had come to pick Chloe up as today, a Friday, was the day of her release.
As they left the hospital, conversing about Y/n’s day at school, Chloe smiled when learning about one tad bid of information; “Whenever a girl, apart from you obviously, comes near me... I think I subconsciously freak out... like... It’s just hard to speak you know? I become afraid...” he nervously recalled his past experiences he’d gained throughout the week.
He also lamented that, in general, he’d become a lot more closed of towards people, after all, he didn’t know which one of his friends would turn out to be the next Derrick.
Closing in on the apartment block that Chloe had lived in for about half her life now, she invited him in for something to eat, to which he jovially accepted.
Although he had been quite scared of the expressions and actions she’d committed during that horrible time, he’d passed it off as her having a mental crisis. After all, he’d known the girl for countless years now, it wasn’t like a few seemingly loose screws, which could always be re-tightened, would stop their friendship.
‘It’s as if those moments never happened, she’s acting just like the girl she used to be... No. The girl she is.’ he internally corrected, pushing the fear he felt to the farthest corners of his mind.
The dull grey apartments had grown even more weary as time passed, graffiti living upon the walls for years, the owners never being bothered enough to evict it.
Cooking some food for the tall teen, orange hair fumbled about as Chloe picked a few items from her fridge, orderly dicing them up and throwing them into a pan on medium heat. It hadn’t taken long for the food to be prepared, a soft scent filling the apartment, making Y/n smile.
Unfortunately for the small teen, a door creaked open as another, loosely dressed, figure stumbled into the kitchen, sitting down next to Y/n. The older woman usually refrained herself from acting violently with Chloe when guests were around; she didn’t want to get reported for child abuse, after all that would give her a reputation in her workplace.
“Brat, gimmie some of that as well.” she demanded, her words slightly slurred as she scrolled through the phone, a vibration erupting from the device, causing her eyes to widen in surprise.
Plating the food into three portions, the girl timidly put the plates on the table, a stale silence enveloping the apartment. Y/n, blissfully unaware of the tension surrounding the two, dug into his food, devouring it quickly, as if he were worried that the older woman would demand that he give her some of his food.
The food that she made was miles better than hospital rations, thus Chloe also finished her food with haste. The only person who had yet to touch her plate was the older woman, who seemed to be taken aback by what she’d read.
Exiting the living room, she dialled a number and started a conversation with someone, looking as if she’d struck gold. It was about 15 minutes after the call that a metallic pounding sound erupted from door.
Hastily moving over to open the door, the woman abruptly fell to the floor, a fresh hole located on her forehead, blood slowly dripping out of the wound.
“Ya Filthy Palace Scum” seethed a deep voice, two other men walking into the apartment, unfazed, locating the two teens.
“Oy you two, come with us. The boss sent us. We work for the Prideful Lion gang.” scoffed a small but bulky man with a scratchy voice, a scarred gun holstered on his waist.
The two teen looked towards each other, slightly confused, “I thought Mr. Maxwell was giving us a choice about the matter?” replied Y/n, followed by Chloe nodding in agreement.
The third man looked squarely at the two, his eyebrows rising in surprise before typing a few words into his phone, turning it around, so they both could see the contents of the screen.
There laid two photos of the teens, a large black font reading ”Wanted" seemingly mocking them. “What are we wanted for?” tested the orange haired girl, receiving a shrug from the man in response.
It didn’t seem like the man had leaked their secret. Chloe would have to question the man later.
The main male gangster, tall with brown hair and black spectacles, pointed outside before speaking, “We took care of these pests just for ya, so ya should be thankful to use and accept the boss’s invitation. Otherwise ya would probably be six foot unda by now... those coppa’s had no handcuffs on’em. Only shooters.”
Both of the teens walked towards the door, only Y/n being disgruntled by having to walk over the fresh corpse, as they both looked at the massacre before them.
Five police lay motionless outside of Chloe’s apartment, clean headshots on some, the others had multiple bullet wounds scattered across their bodies. Blood covered their uniforms and the guns which sat next to their cold, lifeless, hands.
Y/n was the only one affected by looking at such a gruesome sight, Chloe just looked mildly impressed by the accuracy of the trio’s gunplay.
“You don’t think there was another alternative to murder?” questioned Y/n, his voice trembling slightly.
“What for the coppas?” paused the leader of the trio, “Nah, they’re all corrupt bastards anyways.” he finished, scoffing at Y/n’s absurd question, moving onwards.
“They’d probably do the same thing to us.” explained the small gangster, a slight smile upon his countenance. It was pretty obvious that he was happy with how the engagement had gone.
“Lets get moving. No doubt people heard the coppas who didn’t go down without a fight.” reasoned the tall bespectacled man.
Two of the gangsters led the way, the other trailing behind the duo to make sure they would not run off.
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About thirty minutes after the fight had occurred, a group of men and women walked up the stairs of Chloe’s apartment, smelling the stench of death even before they turned the corner.
Stepping over the police’s corpses they entered the apartment, finding another dead body.
“Ah, she was one of us. Shame.” commented a woman who had a purple badge equipped upon her left leg.
“Report this to the boss; they’re gone.” commanded another.