|𝙵𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝟷𝟷𝚡|
There's a war in London. No one knows how it started, but those caught in the fray can either struggle or thrive due to the nation-wide influence of two formidable factions: the Crimson Syndicate and the Brotherhood of the...
"I can't let you hurt my family, however loathsome they are." And then Lennox pushed Ren off the roof. As he did, the redhead made sure to drag the florist off with him.
All it took was a tug of a sleeve.
︵‿༻☆༺︵‿
Ren groaned in pain, shoving himself upwards, away from the sharp branches of the shrub he landed on. "That hurts like a bitch." He should have been happy that he was still alive, but he found it hard to be grateful and be in pain at the same time.
He surveyed his surroundings, mainly searching for that bloody florist. If Ren could hurl some orange lilies at Lennox right then and there, he would.
Finally, his grey eyes spotted a tuft of dirty-blond hair and followed it down to the florist's body. There Lennox was, draped over a tree branch, limp and unconscious. It served him right, in Ren's mind. He sported a grim smile. After all, the bastard had shoved him off a roof just a minute ago.
He had to admit, the bastard was clever for reading him like that. The one thing he couldn't account for was why he was overcome by a toff so easily, though.
Nevertheless, Ren was sorely mistaken about the timing of the incident. His phone chimed; a new message from Mitsan had arrived. Some time before, the signal to shoot the target had been sent as well. All while Ren was being shoved off a roof.
9.34: It's time, Ren.
9.38: Ryker? Where have you been? The target's long gone.
9.45: I guess you weren't up to the task then.
"What? Does that mean... no, I couldn't have..." Ren rushed towards the nearest window, wincing as he ran. His target was there, waving and greeting people after his speech.
He felt a surge of despair and self-doubt. Perhaps the others had been correct, he was not prepared for this challenge. He lacked the skills and the confidence. Trixcia had seen through his facade, as had the rest of them. He had been fooling himself, thinking he could lead a mission. Not like this. He had endangered everything they had strived for that night, and that was unforgivable.
The redhead paced around the outside of the building, his breath quickening. He was certain that Mitsan had lost all trust in him by now. He felt hopeless and trapped. Ren couldn't return to the compound empty-handed, but he had no other place to seek refuge, not after his sister's death.
He stalked up to Lennox, who stirred slightly when his buyer was close enough to touch. Ren's teeth grated against each other upon gazing up at him.
"You damned, bastard cock-up florist! You're fucking up my life! If anyone makes my blood boil more than Trixcia, it's you.It's hopeless for me, and it's all because of you," Ren seethed, despite knowing Lennox couldn't hear him. "It's all your fault, and now I'm ruined."
He pulled out his handgun painstakingly slowly as his veins throbbed with rampant anger. With a trembling hand, the redhead lifted the gun to Lennox's head. "How could you? I was going to be... I was going to be the best," he stammered. His gun wavered, unable to stay in one spot for more than a few seconds. Ren's slender fingers closed around the trigger.
Just before pulling it, he sank to the ground, defeated. His hands had never shaken like this before. Now, he used them to mask his face, which was high in colour from his rampage. Even when Trixcia provoked him, that only made his mind clearer as to what she was to him; he had no obligations to her anymore.
But his supplier, this florist... he was different. Not only did he overwhelm Ren not once, but twice, he effortlessly stopped the sniper from what he had been doing for most of his life. Killing, and enjoying it too. Letting a feeling of satisfaction rush through him like a pulse wave. The sensation was branded in him since he was merely fourteen, and Lennox had interrupted it. Ren had let it happen, as to not discourage his supplier. But enough was enough. This couldn't go on for any longer.
Ren looked up to peer at him—he was blinking and shifting around a bit. As he moved, Ren noticed that Lennox was injured, more so than himself. Shallow scratches and small cuts showered his figure, some bleeding and others already clotted. The substance seeped through his thin layers of clothing easily.
Offhandedly, Ren wondered if the florist knew how to get blood out of his clothing. He moved to inspect his own garments for new stains.
The trees rustled, alerting the red-headed sniper to Lennox's full revival, like an animal that played dead, waiting for the danger to pass. A solid thump followed not long after. Ren's head whipped toward the motion, bewildered to find the florist sprawled on the ground. One's ears could distinguish a few choice curse words spewing from Lennox's lips.
"Bloody fucking hell, ow. That does not feel right." He inhaled sharply with every attempt to raise himself off the grimy earth.
With the fifth try, even Ren and his sadism became tired of watching. He dragged himself over to Lennox, offering an arm, like he had done not so long ago.
Only this time, the florist didn't hesitate.
At this, Ren thought of something that he considered nothing short of ingenious. He contemplated the risky idea. What if he kidnapped the florist, Lennox, and took him to the base? Perhaps that would at least minimise the price to pay for failure. The florist was still the son of a Verita, and the target's offspring, at that. That had to count for something, right?
"But how to get him there..." the sniper murmured under his breath.
"What was that? Did you say something?"
Ren quickly dismissed the notion, putting his ramshackle plan in motion. "Actually, yes. I was wondering how I was going to carry you." The sniper smirked. "Bridal style or sack of potatoes?"
"I'm sorry, what?!" Lennox blurted, taking a few startled steps away from Ren before he collapsed again.
"Hey now, it's all right. I wasn't going to let you off that easily. You pushed me off a roof, so obviously I've got to get payback somehow. Now get up."
"I'm trying."
"Do you want my help or not? Cooperate with me here."
"Shut up."
"I'm just saying... I'm going out of my way to escort you, and this is how you repay me?"
After that statement, Lennox staggered to his feet, swung back his arm with all the strength he could muster, and punched Ren in the face. "I said shut up."
"Blimey, that's not the reaction I was expecting," Ren exclaimed, false surprise in his voice. His hit was unexpectedly weak.
Alas, his words went ignored, and his supplier swayed precariously on his feet. Before Lennox could fall, Ren swooped in, grasping his waist and pulling it towards himself. "Sorry, but you'll need to be unconscious from here on out."
