Burnt Lies

Traitor

Violence warning, may not be suitable for all audiences.

Cameron

While Alara was at her dinner with her father, where I didn't have to worry about her going missing again, I made my way over to the Wolfsbane house, Owen had caught some of the attackers and it was out job to find out why they had done it. 

There was heavier security around the Ross household, more gang members flanking each corner of the property. 

"State your business," one of the guards grunted at me as I made my way to the entrance.

It was then Owen walked over behind him, "Stand down Johnson, he's with me," the guard gave me a withering look before begrudgingly opening the gates and letting me through. 

"More security then?" I questioned as we began to walk through the base. 

"More than ever after what happened, I can't risk another attack, I'm sure you've done the same," he responded as we waded out way through grey hallways to an enclosed area of the building. 

The door was locked with a fingerprint scanner that Owen pressed his thumb against, after a moment the heavy set metal doors swung open with a deafening screeched that echoed down the dark tunnel behind it.    

The only source of light were flickering oil lamps that appeared to be in the wrong era, they didn't have the same hum as the electric lights above us, and they cast dark shadows against the already matted walls. 

"So this is the place that people mean when they say a traitor will never see the light of day if they ever betray the Wolfsbane."

Owen smirked at the children's rhyme that I had recited, it had been instilled in the youth the power of the gangs and their notoriety had made its way into the songs they would sing.

"It is always through a child's eyes that, the truth is beholden."

Soon we made it through the winding tunnels, as the amount of light dwindled the number of groans of anguish increased. Ragged thin hands would reach through the bars, as screams of torture rang true. But none of it phased me, violence had been in my blood for too long for it to be able to stain me anymore. 

"How many did you manage to detain?" I asked as we wound round the corner to the darkest part of the cells.

"We only managed to get three of them but I think that will be enough," Owen explained as he pulled a rusted key from his back pocket and jammed it into the lock. I heard the barrels click falling out of place to allow the metal door to be swung open. 

And there crouched on the floor where three hunched over figures, blood spatters around them, all of them with crushed masks in front of them. Their signature black shirts had been torn to reveal a tattoo on each of them, the same drama mask their leader had been wearing, of a joker's grin and malice all in one face.

As soon as I stepped in the putrid stench of rot filled my nose, the acrid taste of blood in the air and sweat pealing off of the prisoners. 

"You  seemed to already have started Owen, always taking away the fun," I made sure to show my malevolent grin to the three men, I wanted their blood to run cold, their minds filled with all the awful possibilities of what could happen to them. Now that I, the most ruthless Viper was here to devour its prey. 

The middle man, started to cough and sputter, a large clot of blood heaved up from his throat mixed with spittle landed in front of him, punctuated with a groan of agony.

I crouched down so I was eye level with the man who looked the worst off amongst them. He would be easy to break so I would start there. 

"Now then, do you want to do this the easy way or the hard way?"