Black Tulip

Chapter 12

Although it is not hurricane season in Florida, the big storm has long taken hold in the lives of some of its residents. While some indulge in the rich nightlife without caring for the future, others shiver in anticipation of an imminent tomorrow.

Lucky is afraid that he will succumb to panic attacks at any moment. He attempts to conceal his inner Armageddon, but the beads of cold sweat that constantly pour over his body and his alternating, anxious twitching of the jaw and hands reveal him. Life is sliding through his fingers like grains of sand. He is unable to prevent a certain outcome. The day he promised his loyalty, he entered the first circle of Dante's Inferno.

His eyes and ears are playing tricks on him. Leo's creepy laughter follows him everywhere. He appears from every dark nook, and the darkness is clenching Lucky to the point of suffocation.

The traces of the drug are long gone from his blood system. This is not a figment of his imagination; this is reality.

"To hell with it!"

Lucky knew better than to take the problem lightly. Leonardo does not show mercy to anyone. The angel of death breathes on his neck, ready to drag him into the underworld for Hades. A black tulip planter on his grave will be the only memory of his existence. Lucky heard the stories circulating in the underground but never witnessed one, so he was content with the knowledge he had.

He knew better, he said to himself, shaking his head in disbelief at his foolishness.

This night, Lucky summoned everyone who was involved with drugs. When his life is on the line, he is willing to go to any length. Adrenaline rushes through his veins, causing him to overdo himself. Even though his palms were crippled, he managed to inflict suffering on poor, cursed souls in order to obtain the necessary names.

"Blood Paris Wedding" appeared on stage. The ticking clock fogged Lucky's reasoning.
If besieged by the predator, the prey may turn into a beast. This is exactly what happened to Lucky. He went insane, but still had no results.

Despite the horrific bloodbath, screams, and pleas, Lucky was unaffected. He was obsessed with unknown names. Hours went by, and he was stuck in one of the gang's basements.

One of his close friends witnessed what was going on, and he couldn't take it anymore to watch and follow this self-destruction and murderous acts.

He hits Lucky hard in the face. A wake-up call for Lucky. His friend didn't stop there; he landed blow after blow.

The horror on Lucky's face is obvious.
But Lucky made no move to defend himself, as if the punches were a blessing in comparison to the torment Hades had in store for him.

He grabs Lucky by the collar, yanks him off the ground, and shakes him while yelling in his face.

"Get your sh*t together, Lucky!"
"You had completely lost your damn mind!" His voice booms like a thunderstorm.

"You become Hannibal Lecter overnight."

"If you weren't my friend, I'd kill you after the first sign of your madness!"
He hissed every word.

His friend is upset with him.

"I know you better. This is not you, and you are not a coward. "
Lucky remains on the floor, completely numb from the pain, quietly listening to his buddy. His face is caked in blood. He is unrecognisable.

"What are you going to do with all the bodies you left behind?"
Unanswered questions are lingering in the air between two friends.

"You got us into deeper sh*t. Don't expect Hades to cover your pathetic ass. It is not enough that we have Mexicans; now we have to deal with the police. The media will tear us apart regarding the massacre."
He spat.