The sky cracked with distant thunder. Raindrops tapped gently against the glass.
Sage stood by the floor-length window, swirling a glass of wine. He watched the distant shapes moving toward the forest behind the resort — seven silhouettes sneaking into the mountain's embrace.
He smirked.
"Told you, Sam. Be careful with that twisted brat. But you just don't listen."
Behind him, Felton stood with arms crossed, eyes fixed on the CCTV screen. The monitor glowed faintly, displaying the group threading through the shadows.
Felton spoke quietly, "Should I follow them?"
Sage took a slow sip, eyes never leaving the window.
"Let them greet their enemies first. Let them taste the brutal world, fox."
Felton's jaw clenched. "What if something happens?"
Sage turned slightly, eyes sharp.
"That bastard up there isn't capable enough to harm them. Neither he nor his pathetic dogs hiding in that mountain."
Felton didn't reply. Because deep down… he knew.
Tonight, there would be blood.
---
The Group Approaches the Mountain
Seven silhouettes moved through the dense forest, their breaths quiet, footsteps careful. The mountain peak loomed ahead, cloaked in thick clouds. The air felt heavy — the sky ready to burst open.
They were dressed in joggers, t-shirts, and hoodies. Casual — but armed.
Prez pulled her crop top down slightly. "We really picked the wrong season for a vacation."
Jake scoffed. "You think it's still a vacation?"
Ray muttered, "Nothing vacation-like has happened since we landed. Just suffering."
Juli rolled her eyes. "And now we're haunted by ghosts from the past."
Sam chuckled. "What an amazing trip."
Miana sighed, the sarcasm thick. "This'll be carved into my memory forever."
They all laughed — except Jean.
He walked ahead, a shadow over his face. His mind was elsewhere.
Will Rai see me for who I am? A civil servant, walking into blood and fire. Can he accept that?
His thoughts were shattered when Jake suddenly grabbed his wrist.
"Shhh."
Everyone ducked behind a massive tree trunk.
Prez whispered, "What happened?"
Sam, voice low, "There are people. A lot of them. Hidden behind the trees."
Jean narrowed his eyes. "They were waiting to ambush us."
Miana's voice trembled slightly, "What should we do?"
Juli clenched her fists. "We split. Ambush them instead."
Weapons were quietly drawn — knives, bats, wooden rods. Prez had a small pistol tucked behind her joggers.
Ray eyed the others. "Can you all handle this?"
Prez grinned, her pupils dilated with adrenaline. "Just watch how I fuck them up."
Jake grinned back. "Wanna compete?"
Prez smirked, lips curling wickedly. "Let's hunt."
In silent agreement, they split into teams:
Jake & Prez
Ray, Juli & Miana
Jean & Sam
---
Five dark figures crouched among the trees, armed and waiting.
Jake gave a low whistle.
Five enemies turned at once — but instead of prey, they found two maniacs stepping into the moonlight.
Jake twirled his hockey stick. "So… who wants to die first?"
Before anyone could move, he swung — cracking the skull of one man with brutal force. Blood sprayed into the air.
Prez didn't hesitate. She smashed her bat into another.
But then—someone tried to attack Jake from behind.
Prez reacted on instinct. She drew the hidden pistol.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Three bodies dropped behind Jake.
He turned, wide-eyed. "Prez—"
She stared at the gun in her hand, breathing hard. Realizing.
She had killed them.
The man at Jake's feet groaned. Without blinking, Jake rammed the hockey stick through his skull. Another came crawling — Jake ended him too, splattering blood across his face.
The moonlight hit him, and for a moment, Prez stared.
A monster.
And yet… she felt something bloom in her chest. Dark, hot, uncontrollable.
Jake looked at her — face bloodied, breathing heavy.
"Fucking sexy."
Prez smirked, voice low. "I know."
Jake didn't know why — but watching Prez kill awakened something in him. A desire that burned in the pit of his stomach. Twisted. Primal.
And before words could ruin it, Prez grabbed his collar, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed him — hard.
Jake dropped his weapon and grabbed her waist, fingers digging in until the skin turned red. He devoured her lips, her blood, her breath.
Their kiss was war.
________
Ray, Juli & Miana: Edge of the Cliff]
They moved in sync, silent as shadows.
Seven enemies were hiding behind tree trunks. Ray crept up from behind — and with deadly precision, he twisted necks one by one. Clean. Brutal.
Juli was right behind him, blade in hand. One by one, she slit their throats, blood spraying onto the mossy ground.
Miana stood frozen. Her eyes wide — watching necks snap, blood spill. She couldn't hold it in. A quiet, strangled scream left her lips.
It was just loud enough.
The remaining men snapped toward her — eyes wild — and charged.
Miana stumbled back but grabbed a thick branch. She swung wildly — crack! — striking one across the head. Another lunged—
Thud.
She shoved them both — off the cliff.
Ray, eyes wide: "Damn."
Juli grinned darkly. "Let's push them all off the cliff."
What followed was chaos. Five enemies. Against three.
Juli's blade danced again — two more down. Ray punched through ribs and twisted limbs like they were paper. Useless bastards.
Miana shoved another one — off.
The rain started. Soft. The earth grew slick beneath their feet.
Miana's foot slipped.
"Ahh—!"
Ray and Juli caught her by the waist in one seamless movement.
Ray: "You okay? Mia?"
Miana gasped, staring at her trembling hands. "I... I killed them."
Juli gently brushed her damp hair back, soothing. "It's okay. Okay? It's nothing."
Miana shivered as Ray and Juli hugged her from behind — grounding her in the middle of the bloodshed.
Ray: "We should find Sam and Jean. Then regroup with Jake and Prez."
Miana nodded, breathless. "Yes. Let's go. Hurry."
They disappeared into the forest shadows.
---
[Scene – Jean & Sam: The Peak]
The climb grew steeper.
Suddenly—ambush.
A man in black lunged from behind.
Jean grabbed him and choked — fast and efficient.
Another rushed in. Sam stepped in and drew his blade.
Slice.
Slice.
Sam breathed hard. Blood on his hands. His first real kill.
Jean touched Sam's shoulder.
Sam turned, tense.
Sam: "You go up. I'll handle this."
Jean: You sure?
Sam gave a small nod, forcing a smirk. "Go."
Jean climbed the last stretch — and there he was.
Hans.
The man who shattered his home. The man Jean had already killed once.
Jean's eyes were fire.
He ran toward him, but guards jumped in — black-clothed, faceless. Jean fired twice.
Bang. Bang.
They dropped.
Rain poured harder now.
Hans stepped into the open. Ragged. Laughing.
Hans: "You've really become a monster, huh, Jean?"
Jean's voice was ice. "How are you alive?"
Hans sneered. "You think a brat like you could kill me?"
Jean snapped. "I did kill you! And I'll do it again."
Thunder roared.
A shadow approached from behind.
Clink.
A blade dropped to the ground. Jean turned. His heart froze.
Rai.
He had followed them. Killed the rest of Hans' men.
Jean's soul shattered.
No, not him. Not this version of himself. Not in front of Rai.
But... Rai wasn't horrified.
He was smiling.
Not cruelly. Not mockingly. Possessively.
Rai looked like he'd just found home. The one thing he could never let go.
Jean was frozen — torn open.
Hans tried to flee.
But it was too late.
Sam, Jake, Prez, Ray, Juli, and Miana emerged from the forest. They surrounded Hans like wolves.
No escape.
Jean grabbed him.
Stab.
Again.
Stab.
And again. And again.
Jean didn't count. He stopped feeling.
The rain washed the blood down the cliff. No one said a word.
And Rai... smiled.
He had fallen.
In obsession.
A curse he welcomed.
Jean turned, dripping crimson. "You followed me."
They were both soaked. Rain falling soft now, like a curtain.
Rai: "Couldn't resist the temptation."
Jean: "You bored yet?"
He spread his arms slightly, showing off the mess.
Rai stepped forward, a breath away.
"You can never bore me."
His voice was husky — on the edge of control. Hands clenched, barely resisting.
Jean smirked. "You're cursed ."
Rai grabbed his waist, closing the space between them. Lips brushing his ear:
"You need to deal with this curse now."
Jean hissed, "I want you."
Rai didn't even answer.
He just took him — dragging him down the mountain path, their bodies pressed together, drowning in blood, rain, and lust.
---
The rest of the group stood in stunned silence.
None of them could speak. Their hearts burned with the same twisted heat. As if their bodies screamed for their own release. Their own secret, stolen space.
And then—
Two more shadows appeared behind them.
Everyone turned, weapons raised—
The clouds shifted.
Moonlight revealed—
Felton.
Rowon.
Prez: "Mr. Fox? Mr. Rowon?"
Juli: "What are you doing here?"
Rowon rolled his eyes. "Cleaning up after you kids."
They all froze. Guilt, exhaustion, adrenaline.
Because they knew.
Twenty bodies on a mountain. A tourist zone. Forbidden or not — the mess would draw attention.
They all bowed slightly to Felton. A wordless apology. A quiet thank you.
Rowon raised an eyebrow. "So, Mr. Fox... ready for our grave-digging date?"
He winked.
Felton sighed.
________
The mountain air was cold, crisp, and reeked of damp earth and secrets.
Felton dug in silence.
Boots pressed into the mud, gloves stained red-brown, every breath a slow exhale of annoyance. He hadn't asked for this. He was supposed to be handling loose ends quietly. Not babysitting a sarcastic, too-pretty-for-his-own-good detective with a body to bury and commentary to match.
Rowon, two feet away, jabbed his shovel into the dirt with far too much enthusiasm for someone committing a felony.
Rowon: "You know... it's only a murder if they find the body. Otherwise, it's just a missing person."
Felton (without looking up): "And this is why therapists have job security."
Rowon: "Do I look like I can afford a therapist?"
Felton side-eyed him. "You look like the kind of idiot who treats grave-digging as cardio."
Rowon grinned. "Better than CrossFit."
Their shovels clanged against a rock. Both froze. Then sighed.
The silence returned—thick and muddy like the ground they stood on.
Felton finally broke it, his voice sharp and low.
Felton: "You're not supposed to be here."
Rowon: "Neither are you. Yet here we are. Two gorgeous men bonding over holes and homicide."
Felton stopped digging.
Felton: "You're enjoying this."
Rowon: "A little. But mostly I'm just trying not to throw up. If only Rai didn't force me to clean after him. "
He nudged the half-wrapped corpse with his boot. "Lets think it's fertilizer."
Felton muttered, "I really don't get paid enough for this shit."
Rowon crouched, wiping sweat off his forehead with a dirty sleeve. Then, looking up at Felton with that infuriating smirk:
Rowon: "Come on, Fox. What's more romantic than a graveyard at midnight?"
Felton: "A firing squad."
Rowon chuckled. "So you do have a sense of humor. Somewhere under all that trauma."
Felton: "Don't make me bury you in the next hole."
Rowon: "Kinky."
Felton blinked. Stared. Took a slow breath.
Rowon: "Kidding. Mostly."
They returned to digging, silence broken only by the occasional curse, the crunch of metal in soil, and the drip of sweat down necks.
Rowon finally asked, "Why are you helping these kids?"
Felton looked at the body, face unreadable. " Mr. Brown ordered to get Mr. Sam out of this mess."
Rowon: "Sam? …Your master is dating him?"
Felton: "No. Sleeping with him. Or whatever he is scheming in his head. Doesn't matter."
Pause.
Rowon:"Why are you doing this job?"
Felton's hands tightened on the shovel. "Because if I don't… someone I care about dies."
Rowon didn't ask who.
Finally, the graves were deep enough.
Together, without ceremony, they dropped the wrapped bodies in and began to fill the holes. Dirt covering corruption. Rain began to fall in a soft drizzle, like the mountain wanted to wash the sins away.
When it was done, they stood at the edge of the graves, breath ragged.
Rowon: "We should go. Rain'll erase the rest."
Felton: "You tell anyone about this…"
Rowon held up a hand. "Scout's honor. Besides… who'd believe me?"
Felton turned to leave.
Rowon called out, "Hey."
Felton paused.
Rowon (more quiet this time):
" You're not the only one with blood on your hands. You don't have to carry it alone."
Felton didn't turn. But his hand clenched once, then loosened.
Felton: "Let's just get back before someone asks why we smell like dead people."
Rowon grinned.
Rowon: "So... next time, dinner instead of corpses?"
Felton: "Next time, I'm bringing duct tape."
They disappeared into the dark forest, side by side.
Not friends.
Not enemies.
Just two broken men with dirt under their nails, guilt in their lungs, and something new — something dangerous — threading between them.
---