'So much blood,' that was Alexander's first thought as he observed the gun in his hand. The gun was a present from Viktor Reno for his sixteenth birthday, and it had tasted so much bad blood. But none was more satisfying than when he finally got the chance to blow off those bastards' skulls. The gang members who forced him to have sex with an orphan girl. The girl was sixteen while he was twenty-two.
He was forced to do it with her almost the whole night and it caused the girl a great trauma, one that she would never recover from.
He tucked the gun in the small of his back and approached the building in front of him. It was an old warehouse. Inside, he could hear the sound of chatter and laughter. Kicking the door open, he found four middle-aged men sitting at the table, drinking and smoking, while three younger ones were busy playing tarot cards.
"Who's this fucking bastard?! How dare you kick the door open like that?" One yelled. Alexander recognized him, he was the one who tore his mother's stomach open with a knife and gutted out her organs. He could only imagine the pain she went through.
"Oh, just a fresh kid," another with long beard said, puffing out smoke. "Probably a rich one."
Alexander stepped inside and stopped in front of them. They all looked at him amazed. None of them recognized him.
"What the fuck are you doing? Do you have a death wish?" the toned skin one challenged. Alexander smirked as he looked at him. He was the special one, the one who raped his mother until she lose consciousness, all before his eyes. The man advanced. "Seems like you missed your way, but don't worry, we will let you go unharmed if you just wire us some money."
"There is no point," Alexander began calmly, "you're all going to die, anyway."
Laughter erupted, but when Alexander didn't react, they stopped.
"Hey, kid, don't make us laugh. Just do as I say and live."
"Does he think we are joking, Sebastian? Maybe we should rough him up a little," the long beard man said, looking into Alexander's eyes. But then his gaze narrowed as if he just saw something. "You?"
"Boss, do you know him?"
"Don't you recognize him? He's that little kid from fourteen years ago," the said boss declared, and silence washed over the room as the realization dawned on them. They all stood alert, ready to attack him.
"So, you're him?" Sebastian chuckled sarcastically. "Your mother had a sweet little pussy, I should have kept her alive to fuck her every…" Before he could finish, Alexander landed a punch on his face, sending him staggering to the ground.
"Fuck you, asshole!" One of the youngsters yelled, lunging at him. Alexander grabbed him by his neck and slammed his head against the wall. The boy blanked out.
"If you wish to die next, don't waste my time and come out, I will make it quick," he warned, scanning the room. They all stood frozen, raw fear spread across their faces.
"Fuck! Beat him up!" The boss ordered. But that was their mistake, because in the next five minutes, they were all laying on the floor, dead. Blood flowed, carrying its thick smell around the room.
Wiping his knife clean on one of the bodies, Alexander approached the boss, who remained unfazed, smoking his cigarette as if his lackeys didn't just die.
"How did you recognize me?" He asked.
"Your eyes. They didn't change," he replied without hesitation. "It was sad that she had to die, but this is our job, we do this to survive."
Of course. He understood the brutal world they lived in. He knew the dirty jobs he had to do to survive, but he never took an innocent soul. He would prefer they fucked him mercilessly, whipped and tortured him with hot steel till he was a breath away from death. He wouldn't kill an innocent person.
"She was innocent. You guys didn't only kill her, you raped her."
"Someone gave her to us, if she was innocent, they wouldn't."
"Who? George Steele, isn't it?"
Alexander took the man's silence as a confirmation. He wasn't wrong all these years after all.
He scoffed bitterly and drew out his gun. The blood drained from the man's face as he pointed it at his head. "You… you won't…"
"Why wouldn't I? Don't worry, you won't be alone. George and his family will join you soon."
Before he could protest, Alexander pulled the trigger through his head and he dropped dead to the ground, his eyes wide open.
****
Alexander returned from the fierce battle, fresh blood staining his clothes and skin. His blue eyes grew darker as he thought of the one who managed to escape. Sebastian. The bastard had recovered from his punch and slipped out while he was busy with the boss.
"Jesus. Fucking. Christ," Ethan gasped upon seeing him. "Boss, you didn't go to a war zone, did you?"
"Shut up and burn these clothes," he snapped, irritated, as he stripped off his suit. It was brand new, he would have made George pay for his dry-cleaning and for his expensive wrist watch which was now tarnished with blood. But he didn't want anything to serve as a reminder of today.
"I thought you changed," Ethan smirked, picking up the discarded clothes.
"Not while my enemies are still alive," he simply said and turned to leave, but Ethan's voice stopped him.
"George rescheduled the meeting for tomorrow. I think he wants to sign the papers."
Good. He couldn't wait to meet him too, he craved to see the reaction on his face after his errand boys just got murdered in cold blood. Or maybe he would have just separated their heads and delivered it to George as a gift. That would have been more satisfying.
"Call for a conference in two days. Everyone should be present," he ordered. "And I want you to trace some persons for me."
"Alright," Ethan said, walking past him to the fire place. "Linda has been trying to reach you, but couldn't. She's waiting in the vacation home for you."
"Tell her I am busy."
The last thing he wanted to see right now was Linda. He wasn't in the mood to deal with her or her headless jealously.