"Aarghhhh!!! Get off me—let me go!!!" Little Finger's scream tore through the night, high-pitched and desperate, the sound cracking with panic. His legs kicked uselessly against the ground, heels scraping against the dirt. Aaron's grip around his neck was like an iron vise, fingers locked so tight that Little Finger could barely suck in air, let alone move. His nails dug into Aaron's forearm, but it was like clawing at stone.
"Run! Everyone run!" the mafia boss barked, his voice trembling despite his attempt at authority. His eyes darted between Aaron's glowing silhouette and his frozen men, the truth dawning on him in that split second—there was no defeating the devil standing before them. The only hope they had was escape.
"Run in different directions!" he shouted again, urgency spiking. "He can't catch all of us at once!"
