They Who Slaughtered Hope 🌈| Slow Updates/Editing

Chapter 23

┏━━━༻☆༺━━━┓

𝚁𝚎𝚗

┗━━━༻☆༺━━━┛

𝘕𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 18𝘵𝘩, 𝘔𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨

TW: Sexual Assault

A shadowy silhouette snatched Ren's attention away from his leisurely walk. It was accentuated by the purple, pink, and yellow hues of the setting sun. The person was short, young, or both, quite like the only teenager that he knew lived near Hewler Street. But they weren't walking normally. Instead, it was sluggish and laboured.

"Chase! Chase? Is that you?" Ren jogged until he caught up to the limping figure. "Mate, what's wrong? You alright?" he said, crouching next to the boy.

There was no reply aside from some incoherent, frightened murmurs as Chase swayed on his feet.

He was having a hard time walking, and the street wouldn't be visible for much longer. The sniper decided to help him get back.

Ren wrapped his arm around Chase and led him home. However, when the house was but a few yards away, Chase's legs buckled. "Hey, hey! Chase, are you okay?" Ren knelt and got a closer look at the shivering teenager in front of him. Chase's eyes were glazed and unfocused, and his cheeks were flushed. 

He had been drugged.

Ren scooped up the boy, depositing him on a couch once they got inside. He noticed that Chase was draped in a shirt two sizes too big, and where the gaping neckline dipped, he recognized bruises splattered across the boy's chest. 

As he fetched a glass of water, anger thrummed in Ren's veins. What kind of monster would have done such a thing to a child?

Ren offered Chase the cup, only for him to refuse it.

"I'm not thirsty," he managed. "I'll just go—" 

"I'm glad you're talking again, but you really should drink. Afterwards, you can leave, or we can talk. But only after." He ensured the teenager drained the glass' contents and waited to see what Chase would do. It seemed as if he was either going to stay or was too dizzy to get up. 

"So, what happened?" Ren prompted, reaching for his hand to ground him.

"It was... a mission," Chase stammered.

Ren leaned into the leather couch. A mission. Could it be a coincidence, the wording Chase used?

Heaps upon heaps of questions piled up, but he needed more information before jumping to conclusions. Hasty, horrible conclusions. "I didn't know you had a... job. A mission for who?" 

"You know who, Ren. And it's not their fault, I just wasn't careful enough. It's fine..."

He was lying, and Ren hated it. The sniper also understood it, though. More than he wanted to admit.

"It is not fine. What in the world happened out there?"

"I was out on a job... right before I got back to base this really pretty brunette lady came up to me. It was so weird; she knew who I was and that I was supposed to be sixteen and that I worked for the Syndicate‬. She offered to buy me some drinks, to help me let loose after doing such a good job or something. The mission had gone really well, so I went with her, but after the second drink I started feeling lightheaded, and she asked if I wanted somewhere to lie down. I could barely stay awake... so I said yes. Clearly... clearly that wasn't the best decision, in hindsight," Chase said, choking on the words.