Running. That is all Azriel has been doing for the past few months. Running... nothing but running and hiding.
Being haunted down by powerful people, having no idea what they will do to him if they manage to catch him, gave him no choice but to run. However, that was the price one gets when their curiosity is bigger than their rationality. You can think of it like a fly settling down on a spider's web, intrigued by what it is, and then getting trapped and entangled, leaving a problem that one cannot easily get out of. In Azriel's case, he is the fly, the web is the reason that he got into this mess in the first place, and the spider is the entire flock of men, with dark clothing and weapons that were constantly chasing him and tailing him wherever he went.
"He is running east, down Birchwood Lane. Team Alda you're up," spoke one of the men through his earpiece. "On it," replied a man from Team Alda. They chased after him and ran as though they were racing against the wind, trying to catch him, having escaped them countless times that very night.
"Boss, he is heading your way," one of the men indicated. "On it," replied their boss.
Azriel kept running as fast as his legs could carry him. He looked tired and worn out but the thought of getting caught and not knowing what was going to happen to him, gave him enough determination to stay on his feet and continue running. His lungs burned as they tried seeping in as much oxygen as they could, as he continued running and turning in all sorts of directions, hopefully to get them off his tail, and find some place to hide. However, unlike the rest of the time, this time it seemed as though it was not going to be as easy to ditch them.
He turned on a random corner on his left, bumping hardly into someone, whose exterior was as hard as a brick wall. He fell backwards right onto his back, hitting his head hardly on the hard and cold, concrete ground. His vision became fuzzy, as the world spun around him, and his ears rang. A tall man loomed above him, seemingly saying something to Azriel, but to Azriel, his mouth was simply opening and closing without ever making a sound. Not soon after, black spots filled his vision, and he passes out.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Azriel came to with a thundering headache, his eyes clenched together, not only because of the dull pain coming from his head but also the light that seemed as though its scope was to torch his eyeballs. He bit out a couple of profanities as the pain continued progressing and moving down his body, starting to become almost intolerable. He tried to move his hands to rub his eyes, but something was restraining his mobility, and not only his arms but his legs as well.
He shot his eyes open, needing to look at the cause. His arms and legs, along with the area where his ribs were, were restrained by thick ropes, which bound to him to a chair. He tried wrenching his arms free, but only made it worse as the ropes tightened more and dug into his skin with every tug and pull he made. He continued struggling against the ropes, crying out in fury and agony as the ropes sawed in deeper into his skin, burning his flesh and drawing blood. He was immobilized completely; in a place he was unfamiliar with. He felt a tremor of panic vibrating in his chest as the memories of what had happened flooded back into his brain and realisation hit.
He remembered getting chased down, turning a corner, bumping into a man, falling down, hitting his head, and passing out. He could not make out his face, but he was sure he was the reason of his captivity. Thoughts of all possible scenarios and outcomes of the situation he found himself in fogged his brain. His breaths started quickening, as panic started to take over every rational thought he had. However, he managed to latch onto the fact that panicking was not going to get him anywhere, it would only make his situation worse. The only thing that he could do in this situation was to analyse his surroundings in order to become familiar with them and make up some sort of plan.
He looked around him, studying the very brightly lit room he was in. It seemed as though he was in some sort of warehouse. Nothing but crates all of different sizes littered the place. There was nothing at all that was close enough for him to maybe try and grab to break free of the ropes. And the doors to the place were not in his line of sight for when he managed to somehow break free and was able to run. His mood continued to deflate as he realised, he was not going to get out of here that easily.
However, from a distance, he saw that same man, that loomed above him, before he passed out, walking towards him very calmly, with a man on each of his sides, walking as calmly as him, behind him.
Upon seeing this his heart missed a couple of beats. He bowed down his head, not wanting to look at the man and fell into a swarm of thoughts. What was going to happen next? Was he going to get killed? Was he going to get tortured? Was he going to get cut into pieces and have his limbs and organs get sold?
He could hear the man walking at the same calm pace, as if he had no care in the world, adding onto Azriel's not so eager anticipation. He finally reached Azriel and stopped just about less than a metre in front of him. Azriel kept his head bowed, not wanting to see if he recognised the man in any way or have any possibility of meeting his eyes. Even though he already had a vague idea of he could be and if that was the case, he was utterly damned. However, he could feel the air of superiority the man emanated from him.
Azriel remained quiet not knowing what to do. Should he just yell out for help? No, that would never work. It would probably only make him angrier, he thought. So, he decided to remain quiet and try not to move as much as he could. Maybe if stood like a statue, he would become invisible and this whole ordeal would disappear, he thought unrealistically, trying to calm himself with delusional thoughts.
Azriel got more anxious as the man continued not saying or doing anything. It was as if he was analysing him from the inside and out. He decided to tug a couple more times on the ropes, in hopes it would do something. He bit out even more profanities as the ropes dug even deeper into his flesh. Tears of anger and fear started swelling in hie eyes, his breaths ragged and shallow as his chest heaved up and down aggressively against the ropes.
His strength was faltering the more he struggled against the ropes, the man not doing anything at all. He felt as though he was a lamb awaiting to be slaughtered. With that feeling in mind he continued tugging at the ropes, he could feel the blood trickling down from his wrists and falling onto the ground, as tears started to splutter uncontrollably down his cheeks. He wanted to be brave, but he was not but a mere 18-year-old, who was in a situation because of how naïve and inquisitive he was.
"You're a hard man to catch, I am almost impressed," said the man, and immediately Azriel's heart missed a beat. His assumptions were right. He recognised the voice almost too quickly, he was no one else but Matteo Bianchi, the infamous mafia don who led the underworld, selling drugs, killing people, trafficking and all other sorts of other heinous crimes. However, the most terrifying thing was that the police had neither the power or the courage to go up against him and take him down, so if he did manage to escape, he would end up in another cycle of running and hiding.
Azriel finally managed to look up, his eyes meeting Matteo's, "what do you want from me?" he asked, trying his best not to let his voice tremble. "I think you know perfectly what I want," the man started, his voice deeper, a hint of anger lining his voice. "So, now you're either going to tell me what I want the easy way, or I force it out of you with whatever means necessary. The choice is up to you of course," Mateo replied, his voice firm. "I already told you countless of times that I don't know what happened with your stupid drugs," rushed out Azriel. "Are you trying to call me a liar? When I have all the proof, I need to believe that you and your dumb little gang, infiltrated the warehouse 7 months ago and stole all the shipment that was in it," said Matteo angrily. "I never called you a liar, but you have to believe me, I had nothing to do with them! I told you time and time again that I was simply curious, walked in there and they got me all caught up in their business, making me look as if I was the culprit. But I have no damn interest in your drugs, nor would I want to have any. So, please, I really do not know or have anything that you need," tried Azriel, becoming almost desperate. "I have been patient with because you are not but a kid, but you must know that I am not a patient man. So, now you are either going to tell me what you know at least, or I am not going to be as lenient with you anymore," Matteo said, his tone final. "I don't know Matteo, please believe me. Why would I go up against a mafia don?!" tried reasoning out Azriel. "Fools exist. It seems however that you have made up your mind, let's start, shall we? I want to get this over with as soon as possible" finalised Matteo. "MATTEO PLEASE! I AM NOT WHO YOU'RE LOOKING FOR! PLEASE," Azriel yelled, as he trashed against the ropes. However, it was no use. Matteo had made up his mind and there was no going back from it.
Matteo walked to a nearby crate, he opened it up and from it brought out all sorts of weapons and tools, that seemed as though they were from the medieval ages. He wore a set of gloves and took of his suit jacket and put it at the side. "Matteo please, just give me a chance. I will find you proof that I had nothing to do with the heist," Azriel said desperately. But he knew it was all for nothing. From Matteo's point of view, Azriel was one of the culprits, he had no other indications as to who the other people were, so, Azriel was to blame for all of it. And if he wasn't going to get the information that he needed to track down the leader, in order to get the money for the shipment that he lost and made a deficit because of, Azriel would have to pay the price as he was an accomplice.
Matteo started to walk back to Azriel, a knife and a handgun resided in his hands. Azriel trashed as much as he could against the ropes, trying to break free but it was an impossible thing. "NO, PLEASE!" Azriel shouted. But Matteo did not even speak, he walked towards Azriel and without hesitation aimed the gun at his knees and shot the both of them. "AAGHHH!" Azriel yelled in agony. Tears fell uncontrollably from his eyes. This could not be happening to him. The pain was so intense, he could barely see straight. "PLEASE STOP!" Azriel begged. But Matteo simply threw the gun at the side and walked behind Azriel. "I am going to give you one last chance. You either tell me what I need to know now, or this continues. Now that you had a taste of it, you surely must have had a change of heart," Matteo stated, calmly. "I... I told you already, I don't know, please, stop," Azriel spoke. "Well, if you are not going to tell me, why would I stop? We have only just started after all and it will continue till you spit out what I need to know or die," replied with Matteo.
Azriel did not even reply, he knew that whatever he said, unless it was something that Matteo could utilise, it would be all for nothing. So, he just remained quiet, trying to think of anything else that could maybe distract him from the pain he was currently in.
Matteo, grabbed Azriel's hair harshly, shooting a sharp pain through his head, whilst making his head look up. With his other hand, he brought the knife to Azriel's face and slowly dragged it down from beside his ear all the way down to his chin, earning another yell from Azriel in the process. Azriel could feel his consciousness waning already. He never had a high pain tolerance, and this was above anything he ever felt. Matteo continued slicing around as he pleased, as though it was something that was normal and that he did every other day. By the time that he was finished slicing, Azriel's face was a bloody mess, figuratively and literally. Along, with his shoulders, his back and the length of his arms. He didn't think that it was possible to be in more pain than he was already in. His voice was hoarse from yelling. His eyes burned from all the tears. He was in entire agony and there was nothing he could do about it.
However, Matteo was not satisfied yet. He walked back to the crate, where beside it he had already put a number of tools that he had yet to test on Azriel. This time he grabbed pliers and Azriel could sense that this was going to be much worse than what he had already felt. "Mat... Matteo, please... I beg you to stop" Azriel breathed out, trying his best to be heard. But Matteo ignored him completely and walked up behind him yet again. This time he freed one of his arms from the rope. However, Azriel had no strength to fight back to maybe escape and after all it was just one arm, he was still pretty bound, so he just complied. Matteo brought Azriel's hand to the front, as though he wanted him to see what he was going to do. His wrists were cut from the burns made by the rope. Matteo grabbed the pliers and without hesitation started pulling as slowly as he could on a nail. Azriel's eyes shot wide open. "NO, PLEASE! PLEASE, THAT HURTS! PLEASE, STOP!" yelled Azriel, his voice breaking one too many times in the process, as he tried to pull his hand back, to get it away from the pliers. However, Matteo kept his arm firmly in place.
After a bunch of a yelling, tears, trashing, pleading, and you name it, three nails were pulled out. Azriel felt that he could not take it anymore. He felt completely out of it. His vision was hazy, he felt tired and almost numb. He could feel the pain, but there was so much of it, all over his body that it just did not feel real. He could feel his head dropping and then Matteo pushing his face up from his chin and gently hitting his face a couple of times as if to wake him up. "Hey! Don't pass out yet, you have to be awake for the grand finale," Matteo said, a hint of amusement in his tone. Azriel barely had any strength to stay awake or sit up straight. Each stage of the torture that Matteo had put him through, was worse than the one before it. The next one was surely going to make him pass out, and finally he would be able to have a break.
Matteo attached a set of pliers which had wires coming of them to his clothing. Azriel added one and one together and realised what was about to go down. At this stage, his body was definitely not able take that, it would end up killing him. Despite, ending up in said situation, having been on the run for so many months, without ever being able to take a break or enjoy life, he still did not want to die. If he had to be honest, he was too afraid to die. He was too afraid of the unknown, and he was just about to start his life. He could not die yet. But there was nothing he could do to stop it. He cursed at his own naïve, stupid and inquisitive character that just could not stay away and pretend as though he saw nothing that day. If only he kept walking and never went inside that warehouse. But what was the point of cursing at something that was already done, and its consequences are now at their climax.
Matteo kneeled down to where a small box with multiple switches, bulbs and buttons was. He adjusted the levels and without a second thought switched on the apparatus. Electricity shot throughout Azriel's entire body, making his body jerk without control and yelling out a loud yell. Azriel could feel his heart quickening and beating at an abnormal pace, his breaths shallow as he tried to contain himself. However, before he could process what just happened another electrical wave passed through his body, this time, at a higher voltage. Another yell was earned, this time sounding more pained than before. His heart hurt and it felt heavy. It was as if someone was hammering onto it, with the intention of smashing it and the same adding weights onto it. He looked over at Matteo and saw him adjusting the voltage to the highest setting. He knew in his heart that he was not going to be able to take this. His body. His heart. He simply could not. He was not strong enough. This was going to kill him. Tears gushed down his eyes without control. "Matteo... Matteo, please... I am too afraid to die," Azriel spoke, his voice entirely full of genuine fear and pain. Without any sort of remorse for Azriel, Matteo turned the switch on, Azriel let out a piercing yell of agony, his heart drummed and then gave in, leaving him lifeless on the wooden chair.
"Check his pulse," Matteo ordered. Quickly the men that came in with him rushed over to him and checked his pulse. "He is dead," said one of the men. "Clean up the scene and get rid of the body," Matteo gave yet another order. "On it boss," replied one of the men.
Whilst the men started removing the restraints and putting Azriel's lifeless body down onto the ground, Matteo received a call. He answered. "What is it?" he asked into the phone. "The kid is not lying; he really is innocent. We found the entire gang and camera footage for proof. He just got roped up in the whole ordeal, but he had nothing to do with it," the caller said. "AND I AM HEARING OF THIS JUST NOW. IN THESE ENTIRE 7 MONTHS NOBODY MANAGED TO FIND ANY PROOF?!" yelled Matteo into the phone. "Well, it's too late now. The kid just died. Bring in all of them, they are responsible for the life of this kid," spoke Matteo, a hint of guilt in his voice, before ending the call. For although he was known to be a merciless man, he would never kill someone who was entirely innocent, especially a kid. And especially one, whose last words had been that he was afraid of death.
"Do not dispose of the body, we are giving him a proper funeral," said Matteo finally, anger and guilt lining his voice, knowing that he just killed an innocent kid.