Forever Running - modern HTTYD

Retribution from the Shadows

6 Months Ago

Hayden stood amidst the debris of the abandoned warehouse, the acrid scent of gunpowder hanging heavy in the air. Bodies lay sprawled around him, testament to the lethal ballet that had unfolded moments ago. The hitmen, trained in the art of silent elimination, had underestimated him. But Hayden was prepared, senses heightened, every move calculated.

The first assailant had stepped into his trap, a subtle shift in shadows giving away his position. A quick, silent dispatch followed—a knife finding its mark with precision. The second and third had come in pairs, guns drawn, their footsteps muffled but not enough to evade Hayden's acute awareness. Shots rang out in the confined space, sparks dancing as bullets found their marks. Hayden moved with a dancer's grace, each step a calculated response to their aggression.

Blood pooled on the concrete floor, stark against the dim warehouse lights. The tableau of violence bespoke a skirmish won by skill and determination. Hayden, adrenaline still coursing through his veins, surveyed the aftermath with a mixture of relief and grim resolve. These men were sent by Dom Rossi, a message in bullets and blades that Hayden's past had caught up with him.

Stepping over the fallen, Hayden retrieved his gear—a well-worn duffel containing essentials: cash, a spare weapon, a map marked with escape routes. Rossi's reach extended far, but so did Hayden's resourcefulness. He had expected trouble, prepared accordingly, yet the intensity of the encounter left its mark—a reminder of the precarious balance between survival and the inevitability of retribution.

Outside, the city sprawled in indifferent sprawl, lights flickering like distant stars in a sky heavy with storm clouds. Hayden slipped into the night, a lone figure swallowed by the urban labyrinth. His thoughts turned to Burk, a sanctuary of memories now tainted by the urgency of escape. The pursuit would be relentless, orchestrated by Rossi's network of shadows—a reminder that even in the shadows, Hayden's past wielded sharp edges, cutting through any semblance of peace.

As he disappeared into the city's depths, Hayden knew this was far from over. Rossi's vendetta burned bright, a fire fueled by the stubborn resolve of a kingpin accustomed to absolute control. Yet, Hayden's own resolve matched it in kind. Each step forward was a testament—a vow—to navigate the labyrinthine alleys of vengeance, to outmaneuver fate's relentless pursuit.

In the distance, sirens wailed—a discordant symphony heralding the city's restlessness. Hayden quickened his pace, footsteps echoing in rhythm with a heartbeat unyielding. The chase had begun, a dance of shadows destined to define the limits of survival and the cost of retribution.

The towering skyscrapers of the city cast long shadows over the dimly lit office of Dominic "Dom" Rossi, the most feared kingpin and drug lord in the metropolis. The room, opulent with mahogany furniture and expensive artwork, stood in stark contrast to the seedy underworld that fueled his empire. Behind a large, ornate desk, Dom sat in his leather chair, brooding. His chiseled face, marred by years of violence and ruthless ambition, was contorted with a mixture of anger and disbelief.

A knock on the heavy oak door broke the silence. Without waiting for a response, Vincent, Dom's trusted lieutenant, entered. His usually composed demeanor was replaced with unease. He knew the gravity of the news he was about to deliver.

"Boss," Vincent began, his voice steady but cautious, "the hit on Hayden... it didn't go as planned."

Dom's cold, steel-gray eyes flicked up to meet Vincent's. He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled under his chin, and motioned for Vincent to continue.

"They're all dead. Hayden took out the entire squad."

For a moment, there was silence. The only sound was the faint ticking of the antique clock on the wall. Dom's expression remained unreadable, his mind calculating the implications of this failure. Hayden was supposed to be an easy target, a loose end tied up without complication. Yet, he had proved to be much more resilient and dangerous than anticipated.

"Tell me exactly what happened," Dom finally said, his voice a low growl.

Vincent swallowed hard. "They tracked him to an abandoned warehouse near the docks. The plan was to take him out quietly, but something went wrong. Hayden was waiting for them. It's like he knew they were coming. He killed all three of our men. The scene was... brutal."

Dom's fist slammed onto the desk, the impact reverberating through the room. "This is unacceptable!" he roared, standing up abruptly. "I gave them one simple task, and they couldn't handle it?"

He paced back and forth, his anger palpable, like a storm building to a crescendo. His empire was built on fear and control, and any sign of weakness could unravel everything he had worked for. The very foundation of his power was at stake, and Hayden's escape was a blatant challenge to his authority, one that could not go unanswered.

Vincent watched nervously as Dom continued to pace, the intensity of his rage filling the room. "We need to send a message, boss. We can't let this stand."

Dom stopped and turned to face Vincent, his eyes burning with a fierce resolve. "You're right. Hayden has made it personal. But sending another squad isn't enough. We need someone who can get the job done without fail."

He walked over to a large map on the wall, tracing his finger along the routes leading out of the city. "Hayden has run back to his hometown, Burk. He's trying to hide, to escape the consequences of his actions. But he won't find any refuge there."

Dom turned back to Vincent, a cold, determined look in his eyes. "Contact Marco. Tell him I have a special assignment for him. Hayden is not to be taken lightly, and Marco is the only one who can handle this. He knows how to deal with these situations, to make sure there's no room for error."

Vincent nodded, relief washing over him. Marco was a legend in their circles, known for his precision and efficiency. If anyone could hunt down Hayden and finish the job, it was him. Marco's specialty was in making deaths look like accidents or natural causes. His methods were unconventional, often leaving no trace of foul play. Marco could make someone disappear in the most mundane of circumstances—a car crash, a house fire, a sudden illness. His skill in crafting these scenarios was unparalleled, making him the perfect choice for this critical task.

"Consider it done, boss. Marco will take care of it."

As Vincent left the room, Dom sat back down at his desk, the rage in his eyes slowly giving way to a cold, calculated resolve. His thoughts churned with plans and contingencies, every fiber of his being focused on one goal: eliminating Hayden. This was no longer just about business; it was personal. And in Dom Rossi's world, personal vendettas were settled with blood.

He picked up the phone and dialed Marco's number. As the line connected, Dom's lips curled into a sinister smile. "Marco, I have a job for you. It's time to remind Hayden who he's dealing with. No more mistakes. Finish him."

Dom hung up the phone and stared out the window, the city's lights reflecting off his hard features. Hayden's audacity had lit a fire within him, a determination that burned hotter with every passing moment. Dom Rossi's world depended on his ability to crush any threat, and Hayden had just become the biggest threat of all. The kingpin knew that if he didn't eliminate Hayden, his entire empire could crumble. And Dom Rossi would never allow that to happen.