Several minutes had passed since the shootout began. Liam, despite his injuries, limped towards the apartment’s door. His once-handsome face was now marred by irregular patches of discolored skin and raised scar tissue, with his left eye severely burnt to the point of blindness, the blue iris now clouded over with milky white. The sides of his face had also been scorched, with blistered skin and charred flesh while shrapnel wounds adorned his torso, arms, and legs.

As Liam reached the door, he muttered to himself, "To think that I would still get off with this many injuries despite pushing off Whimsy at the last second… magnificent." With a slight groan, he turned the doorknob and stepped outside, greeted by the cool morning breeze.

Liam then made his way to a black car waiting outside. Liam then opened the door and eased himself onto the car’s backseat, chuckling softly.

"To think that idiot would inflict this much damage… magnificent. Truly magnificent," he mused with glee.

The driver, a nondescript man with a stern expression and a clean-cut appearance, turned to glance at Liam. "Should I take you to a hospital or something?" he asked.

Liam continued to chuckle, shaking his head. "And get rid of this much pleasure? Nah, I'm good," he replied, flashing a grin.

Suddenly, the driver remembered an important detail. "Oh, and some men brought back someone from the house," he informed Liam.

"Was it Jett?" Liam inquired sharply.

The driver hesitated before answering, "Um… is Jett a child with messy brown hair?"

Liam shook his head. "No, clearly not."

"Then, that is not Jett," the driver confirmed.

"Where is the child?"

"They kept him in the car's trunk," the driver revealed.

With a grin that sent shivers down the driver's spine, Liam exited the car and made his way to the trunk. As he lifted the lid, he found Mick, bound and gagged, his eyes wide with terror as he stared back at Liam.

Liam's grin widened into a deranged smile as he looked down at Mick and taunted, "Boo!"

***

An hour later, Jett's eyes fluttered open, and he found himself in an unfamiliar room, laid on a mat. As he glanced around, he realized he was in some sort of safe house, Charlotte trembling beside him. Eric was sitting on a nearby chair, his expression unreadable.

"You finally regained consciousness," Eric remarked, apathetically.

Jett sat up slowly, his head spinning with a dull ache. "Where is Mick?"

Without a word, Eric handed Jett a crumpled note. Unfolding it, Jett quickly read the chilling message:

"Hey, Jett,

Guess who's got your little friend, Mick? That's right, it's me, Liam. Mick's in a world of trouble now, all thanks to you. If you want to see him alive again, you better come and get him. Meet me at 142 Industrial Avenue if you don’t want me to have a little fun with Mick. But hurry, time’s ticking. Tick tock, Jett. Tick tock.

Liam

P.S. Come alone. And tell Eric I said hi."

Jett gritted his teeth in anger. "We have to go…" he began.

But before Jett could even finish his sentence, Eric interrupted with a cold tone. "No, we don’t. It’s a trap to get you," he said bluntly.

"I don't care if it's a trap. Mick needs us, and I'm not going to let Liam have his way with him. We have to help him now," Jett retorted.

Eric's voice remained icy. "You might not care if it is a trap, but I do. I forbid you from going," he retorted sharply.

Jett's temper flared at Eric's words. "You can't forbid me from doing anything. Mick's in trouble because of me, and I'm not about to sit back and do nothing."

Silence suddenly descended upon the room as Jett and Eric locked eyes. Finally, Eric broke the silence.

"So you are still determined to play hero? I’ve told you before Jett that you’re not a savior. If you go charging in there, you'll get yourself killed," he warned.

"This isn’t about playing hero, Eric! It’s something much more than that. Mick's my friend, and I'm not leaving him to die because you're too scared to act," Jett declared passionately.

With a final glance, Eric stood up abruptly, his posture rigid. "Then do whatever the hell you want," he said tersely then turned to walk away.

"I’m sorry, Eric, but I can’t stay," Jett muttered, and then in a flash of blue light, he vanished.

Eric sighed heavily. "Everybody around me really are idiots..." he muttered to himself.

***

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Jett walked along the bustling city streets. The scent of street food wafted through the air, mingling with the faint aroma of exhaust fumes.

Hailing a taxi, Jett slid into the backseat, greeted by the friendly smile of the driver. "Where to, pal?" the driver asked cheerfully.

Jett leaned back, appreciating the friendly banter amidst the chaos of the city. "142 Industrial Avenue," he replied.

The taxi driver nodded and eased the vehicle into traffic, striking up a conversation along the way.

"So, what brings you to this part of town?" the driver asked.

"Just some business to take care of."

The journey continued with the driver sharing stories about the city while Jett listened attentively.

Upon arriving at the warehouse, Jett thanked the driver and paid the fare before stepping out. The taxi driver waved before driving off. As he drove off, the taxi driver then brought a phone from his pocket and hurriedly dialed a number. After a few seconds, the person on the other end picked up the call.

"I found the kid you’ve been looking for, Devin…"

Meanwhile, entering the warehouse, Jett's eyes scanned the place, taking in the rows of crates and scattered equipment. A two-way radio sat atop a nearby chair, crackling with static. There was also a television mounted on the far wall. It reminded Jett of some of the thriller movies he used to watch.

Suddenly, he found himself surrounded by armed men, their guns trained on him.

"Where's Liam?" Jett demanded.

Instead of answers, the men opened fire without hesitation. In a flash of blue light, Jett vanished, reappearing behind one of the assailants.

Before he could do anything, Jett heard Liam's voice crackle through the two-way radio.

"Quit shooting, you idiots!" Liam's voice rang out. "Glad you could make it, Jett. It's me, Liam, by the way."

Jett turned his attention to the radio. "Where's Mick?" he demanded angrily.

"Mick's just fine. In fact, he's here with me. Would you like to hear from him?"

With a click, Mick's voice came through the radio, ""Jett, run! It's a trap…" Mick’s words were cut short as he suddenly gave a cry of pain.

"He's in no position to talk," Liam taunted. "But hey, at least he's alive... for now."

"Don’t you dare touch Mick," Jett growled.

Liam chuckled, "It’s probably too late for that. Hey Bob; switch on the television, would you?"

Bob nodded then walked over to the television and switched it on. The screen flickered to life, showing Liam lounging on a bed, with Mick tied up in a chair beside him. Mick’s left eye was swollen, he had several bruises across his body and blood was dripping from his mouth.

"You can see me, right? I’m not used to all these live stream setups," Liam remarked casually, waving at the camera. "You're good-looking, you know?"

Jett's lip curled in disgust as he retorted, "Wish I could say the same for you."

Liam laughed then he teased, "I was actually a butterface six hours ago."

Jett changed the subject. "I thought you said I'd meet you here," Jett questioned angrily.

Liam's smile was chillingly indifferent. "I lied, obviously," he replied nonchalantly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Mick, weak and injured, mustered the strength to utter a warning. "Jett, get out of there..."

Before Mick could continue, Liam seized a gun from the bedside table and aimed it at Mick's leg, pulling the trigger with a smile. Mick screamed in agony as tears filled his eyes.

"Stop it! You’re after me, aren’t you? Well, I’m here so let Mick go!" Jett yelled.

Liam's laughter was like nails on a chalkboard as he dismissed Jett's plea. "I don't care about you," he sneered. "Ezekiel is the one after you, not me. I just want to break you."

"What?"

Liam continued, his eyes blazing with sadistic pleasure. "Capturing you and taking you to Ezekiel is boring. This way, I get much more pleasure."

"You bastard..." Jett's voice trembled with revulsion.

Liam walked over to Mick, seized him by the hair and drew him closer with a cruel smirk. "Would you believe me if I told you that Ezekiel isn't even after this little shrimp?" he taunted.

Mick looked up at Liam. "Wait, Ezekiel didn't send you to get us because he wanted what was inside of us?" Mick asked, his voice trembling.

Liam nodded, showing no remorse. "Correct," he replied mockingly.

Mick's anger boiled over as he struggled against his restraints. "So you didn't torture us to awaken our latent abilities? You did it for pleasure instead?"

Liam nodded, his smile growing wider.

"But why?"

Liam laughed, his voice filled with glee. "It was funny. To see all of you go through so much pain while thinking that you were suffering because you were special... absolute fun."

Mick’s anger flared. "You killed all those children for fun?" he demanded, his voice trembling.

Liam’s smile was immediately replaced with a cold indifference. "I remember that Paul killed himself so that wasn’t my fault," he remarked casually.

"But what about the others?"

Liam shrugged dismissively. "I don’t even remember the others. But their deaths were probably funny too."

Mick's tears mingled with his fury as he demanded an answer. "Why do you find so much fun in it? Why?"

Liam pointed the gun at Mick’s face. "The misery of others gives me pleasure. After all, I got pleasure from seeing your misery," he confessed with his voice cold and detached. "And now..."

Tears welled in Mick's eyes as Liam pulled the trigger without a second thought. Blood sprayed across the room, staining the floor with red as Mick’s lifeless body slumped in the chair.

Jett recoiled in horror then Liam turned to face him with a deranged smile on his face. "...I want to get pleasure from your misery, Jett."

Jett's eyes remained fixed on the TV screen, his mind still in shock. "M—Mick?" he stammered.

"Um... I don't think he can hear you, Jett," he jeered, his cruel chuckle grating on Jett’s nerves.

Tears welled in Jett's eyes as he struggled to find the right words. What sort of senseless violence had he just witnessed?

"How can you kill another person without any…" he began, his voice trembling with emotion.

But Liam rudely interrupted him. "Sorry to get in the way of your dramatic speech but I have to get rid of the body now so… later," he said dismissively before ending the livestream.

Jett’s gaze remained on the now-blank screen.

Liam's voice then crackled through the two-way radio, "Boys, you can kill him now. But make sure to bring back his ring or Ezekiel’s never gonna let me hear the end of it... Good luck."

Jett spoke through gritted teeth. "Liam, right?"

"I'm happy you remember my name," Liam replied casually.

Jett’s jaw clenched in anger as he made a solemn vow. "Pray I never see you face-to-face or you’ll be the first person I ever kill," he declared.

Liam's chuckle echoed through the radio before falling silent.

Just as the armed men prepared to execute Jett, Devin, the young man who had met Eric earlier, walked into the warehouse. "That's not a good idea," he warned.

The armed men immediately turned to face Devin but before they could do anything, a ring on Devin's finger glowed black as he conjured a localized black hole, targeting only the armed men while protecting Jett with a barrier.

Jett watched as the immense gravitational forces of the black hole crushed and tore apart all the armed men, killing them instantly. After the massacre was complete, the black hole and the barrier protecting Jett then vanished.

Jett calmly turned to face Devin. "Who are you and why are you here?" he asked, surprisingly composed.

"My name’s Devin. I want you to come with me," Devin stated firmly.

"Sorry, but I'm in a bad mood right now," Jett replied as he turned back to face the black television screen.

A dark aura surrounded Devin. "I did not give a request," he warned, as his ring glowed with an ominous black light. "I don’t mind taking you by force."

Jett calmly turned back to face Devin, his eyes ablaze with an intense sapphire light that rivaled the black glow of Devin’s ring.

"Like I said, I'm in a bad mood right now..."