"It's a simple question, Colton." The older man pressed the end of the gun against my bleeding forehead, his finger resting on the trigger as my fiancée glanced at me with a loveable gaze. "Your future darling or the city."
The look in his eyes qui...
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The streets twisted like a maze under the cloak of night, illuminated only by the flickering glow of scattered streetlights. The air was thick with the smell of fried food, wafting from a nearby food truck where Colton had insisted they stop. Now, clutching greasy corndogs in our hands, us unlikely companions roamed the alleyways with an unspoken tension hanging between us.
Colton's jaw clenched as he took a small bite of his corndog, the crunch biting through layers of uncertainty. He glanced sideways at me, I walked with a swagger that could only be described as menacing. Dressed in dark, tailored clothing that accentuated my lean frame, I radiated an aura of danger that made the lightheartedness of our feast feel surreal.
"I need to talk to you," Colton said, breaking the silence as he swallowed.
I chuckled, the sound low and mocking. "You know, I'm not one to agree to talk to my enemies, yet here I am, eating this corndog with you." My eyes glinted, lit by mirth that belied the cruelty lurking underneath.
Colton rolled his eyes, irritation bubbling beneath his calm exterior. "I want my fiancée back."
I took a languid bite of my corndog, savoring the greasy taste as if Colton's plea was an appetizer rather than a desperate request. I chewed slowly, relishing the moment, before I finally turned to face Colton. "And why, pray tell, should I give her back, hero?"
Colton stopped walking suddenly, breathless with anger and fear. I halted a few paces ahead, my tall figure outlined against the fog swirling through the alleyway. "Why do you even want her back?" I asked, the hint of amusement lacing my cold voice. I turned, smirking, a cruel glint in my eyes. "You waited months just to want her again. Let me ask you something, do you love her?"
Colton hesitated, "Yes, of course I love her." The words tumbled from his lips, but they felt hollow, as if the very act of saying them extracted a price from his soul. He glanced away, the weight of my piercing gaze almost too much to bear.
A scoff escaped me, sharp as broken glass. "You hesitated and stuttered answering that one simple question. You see, if you really loved her, you would've chosen her over the city." The words struck Colton like blows, each syllable an accusation that burrowed deeper into his conscience.
"It was a hard decision," Colton shot back, resentment boiling in his chest. "I can't let the city be destroyed. I couldn't abandon my duty."
I stepped closer, barely a breath of space separating us now. "Pathetic," I replied, voice low and dripping with disdain. "You think sacrificing one life is justifiable to save a city that would turn on you without a second thought? You never deserved her in the first place."
Colton clenched his fists, battling the urge to lash out. "You're the one holding her hostage, Lennox! What do you gain from this? She's not a trophy to flaunt!"
"Oh, but she is," I said as I leaned back, adopting a lazy posture, my confidence radiating like a lethal weapon. "She is my trophy, my prize—the embodiment of everything you've cast aside for the sake of your precious city."
A howl of anguish tore through Colton's thoughts, but he pushed it down; he had to focus. Disregarding my mockery stung less than the cold truth in his own heart. Had he truly chosen duty over love? Suddenly, he felt exposed, bare before this man who thrived in darkness.
"Let her go, Lennox," he pleaded, voice cracking under the weight. "You don't love her; you're just playing games. This isn't who you are."
"Let her go?" I chuckled, "Why would I do that when the more I tighten my hold, the more power I wield? Love isn't a game of chess, Colton. It's an act of domination, an assertion of control."
"This isn't over," he said, and though his voice faltered, he stood tall despite the impending despair.
"Believe me, it is," I replied, turning away, dismissing him like a mere annoyance. But just before disappearing into the shadows, I paused, glancing back. "Remember this, Colton: love is a battlefield, and in this war, I hold the winning hand."
As the sound of my footsteps faded into the murmur of the night, the moon continued to shine overhead as the streets were dark and foreboding.
