Red Rhythm: His Sweet Obsession

11

■ Note: This work of fiction has some stuff based off of real things and some made up stuff, so don't read it thinking oh I didn't know this could happen, because it most likely can't but since it's a work of fiction so there's really no bounds, by that I mean there could be made up illnesses, meds, symptoms, gadgets, places, etc. but I will not write gibberish where even the thing fiction can't justify it. Happy reading. ■

● AUTHOR'S POV

Clicking of the black shoes followed, as Xanthos made his way out of the cemented room and into a relatively bigger space, with a couch and few chairs just haphazardly placed across it.

Pulling off his leather gloves he lightly rotated his wrists, and cracking his knuckles, Xanthos eyed the three men standing infront of him. Interlocking his fingers he stretched them before letting his hands loosely fall down to his sides.

"Drop him off." Xanthos instructed and two of the men; one named Markus and the other brunette haired one named Jean, nodded and entered the room where the man named Bill had been tied up to a chair.

"Boss." the one guy left behind spoke as he approached Xanthos, who was now ready to leave.

The guy had purplish-blonde hair and his neck inked with a honeycomb pattern; front and back, a bunch of piercings covered his right ear whilst just a single one in his left, his heterochromia made one eye blue and the other a beautiful green. He looked at Xanthos as his hands first interlocked and then disengaging them, he crossed his arms against his chest.

"Hm?" Xanthos hummed in response, gesturing the purplish-blonde guy to continue.

"Won't they kill him?" the guy asked and Xanthos, who had gone to plop down on the couch, raised his head that had fallen back leisurely.

"It's a cruel world Otis. But, to answer your question; No, they won't." Xanthos replied confusing Otis, who now ran his fingers through his dyed hair and went to sit on a chair nearby Xanthos; who had gone back to letting his head fall back and breathe slowly, as if trying to rest his senses.

"Why not? He told everything, won't they surely..." Otis' voice trailed off as he ran his thumb against his neck horizontally, mimicking as a knife would run across the neck slitting the throat.

"Montgomerys." Xanthos sighed and continued, "I'm afraid, they're a few cards short of a full deck. They're new and sadly, not very bright." Xanthos commented as he raised back his head and brought his left hand up infront of him, checking the time on his wrist watch.

"What were they thinking attacking us? Do they really believe we're this mafia territory where it's straight bloodshed happening all day everyday?" Otis said as he shook his head disappointedly.

"Like I said, they're new and dull. Darling Grandpa hit the bingo one night, took all the money, came to Samwill thinking they'll play Don Don and take over the whole city. Only if life were that simple." Xanthos mocked at The Montgomery's obvious vacuousness regarding the whole atmosphere of Samwill, and how things worked here.

"To think that they'd go after us as their first prey, they must be itching to die." Otis said as he rolled his eyes, visibly displeased over the fact that someone who had just settled down in Samwill, were dim-witted enough to go after one of the biggest names here, for him, it felt like an insult having such foolish enemies.

"This is what happens, when the subordinates start bootlicking you a little too much, the Baron starts picturing himself as the King." Xanthos sighed. "You see my friend, flattery is a disease. It corrupts your mind, and its preys are bound to be doomed, one way or another." Xanthos commented as he stood up fixing his waistcoat.