Eviterno (AlanxJeff) VI

1

Jeff

I ran through the forest, venturing into an area where the pines stood like giant guardians. The dirt path leading to the Patharapol mansion was left behind, and now I was surrounded only by the thickness of the forest. Beads of sweat pearled on my forehead, falling like tiny raindrops on my skin. The footsteps of my pursuers echoed in my ears, getting closer, much faster than I had hoped. But I didn't allow myself the luxury of looking back. I could feel how the breath of my pursuers almost merged with mine, creating a symphony of fear and desperation.

—Leave me alone. I haven't done anything —I shouted, my voice breaking from the effort and terror.

The wind and branches hit me hard, as if the forest itself conspired against me. My breathing became heavier, and panic began to set in. Would I make it in time? Doubt settled in my mind, threatening to paralyze me.

—This idiot still thinks an omega can compare to us. You'll never beat an alpha —I heard their taunts, full of contempt.

But I didn't let their words defeat me. —There are many ways to beat an alpha— I thought, full of hope, when I glimpsed the mark Charlie had left to guide me. —Not today. At least today they won't get away with it. —I gathered the little strength I had left and made a small jump to avoid the trap. Then I veered off and finally allowed myself to stop. I felt like I could hardly breathe, and the air entering my lungs burned like fire. I bent over, trying to control my breathing, with my hands resting on my legs, when they finally caught up to me.

—Poor thing, are you tired, Jeff? —Winner said to me with disdain and mockery. Beside him, his two henchmen laughed as well.

—How can it be considered brave for three against one? —I asked them defiantly—. Especially three alphas against a weak and fragile omega —I finished, my voice dripping with irony.

Winner smiled at me maliciously.

—Oh, sometimes I forget you're an omega. Let's do something. We won't all attack at once. We'll take turns, and it'll be one-on-one. Does that seem fairer to you? —he asked mockingly.

I lifted my chin defiantly as they began to approach. —Stay calm, Jeff. It will work. It will— I tried to convince myself internally. I could feel the air thickening with their disgusting pheromones. They smelled of violence, of a desire to harm. And then they stepped right where they were supposed to. And they fell. And I heard their screams. I sighed, full of relief.

—Damn you, Jeff! Get us out of here right now! —they shouted, trying to get out, but the ground was slippery and only caused small landslides. I leaned over and saw them, their eyes burning with fury.

—Look at me all you want, that won't kill me —I shouted at them. Now that I saw it better, Charlie had dug a really deep hole. It would be difficult for them to get out of there.

I turned to look at the sky. The sun was already starting to set, tinting the horizon with golden and pink hues. I had to return soon. I went back as fast as my exhausted feet allowed. I thought I was safe for at least a few hours.

When I arrived at the place I once called home, the first thing that greeted me was a dull pain in my right cheek. Uncle Tony, with contained fury, had slapped me with all his strength. The impact resonated in my head, and the pain soon turned into a constant throbbing. As I swallowed, a metallic taste flooded my mouth, reminding me of the harshness of the blow.

—You little brat! Did you know this meeting was important? It's already clear to me that you have no manners, but you have to emphasize it every damn day! —he shouted, his voice echoing in the large hall, full of shadows and echoes. He told one of his men—: Take him away before I kill him. Lock him up, and needless to say, he won't have dinner tonight —he finished with disdain.

I wished at least I had been guilty, but I wasn't. I hadn't done anything. But that didn't matter. It never mattered. The injustice of the situation hit me with the same force as Uncle Tony's slap. I felt a mix of helplessness and despair that choked me, as if the air itself had become dense and difficult to breathe.

Every time I tried to find a reason, a justification for the pain, I found myself with emptiness. There was no logic, no justice. Only the bitter reality that, in that place, guilt and innocence were irrelevant concepts. The only thing that mattered was the power and violence with which it was exercised.

My father had been the leader of what was once known as the pack. Now it was part of the so-called mafia families. He had inherited the position from his father and had ruled his territory harshly but fairly. More than fear, everyone respected him. I was his only son, with the misfortune of being an omega. What alpha would obey an omega? How could I inherit his position? My mother died shortly after my birth, and my father, who could never forget her, refused to remarry. It was unanimously decided that he would hand over his power to Uncle Tony, my mother's brother, with the condition of my total protection. This condition I don't know if it benefited or cursed me.

Over the years, new family heads appeared, growing like a plague, and the wars between them increased. They were not satisfied with their territories; they wanted to take over as many as they could. In the midst of one of those fights, my father died when I was 12 years old. Uncle Tony took over the leadership of our family, and I only saw everything my father had built crumble little by little. In the end, I began to see the darker or perhaps the real face of the mafia and what it meant to belong to this world.

The families were complex organizations, each with its own territory and rules. They were governed by a code of honor, but in practice, betrayal and violence were common currency. Meetings between family leaders were tense, full of distrust and veiled threats. Alliances were formed and broken with the same speed, and any sign of weakness was exploited mercilessly.

Uncle Tony had two sons. Winner, his alpha firstborn, who would inherit his position, and Kenta, an omega. They both hated me. And over time, I learned to hate them too.

Kenta always lied about me doing mischief to him. And Winner came to collect. And Uncle Tony only believed and justified them. Thus, my life became a living hell. Every day was a new torture, a new unfounded accusation that fell on me like a slab. Injustice was a constant, a shadow that followed me everywhere.

Sometimes I had visions of what they would do to me, nightmares that blended with reality, making me doubt my own sanity. But it wasn't always possible to foresee their attacks, because I avoided them like the plague. I hid in the darkest corners of the house, trying to be invisible, to disappear. But they always found me, as if they had a sixth sense for detecting my fear.

How could I see anything if I didn't touch them? That question echoed in my mind, over and over. The answer was simple: I couldn't. I couldn't get close, I couldn't touch them. I could only wait, with my heart pounding, for the next blow, the next humiliation.

This time, Kenta accused me of deliberately staining the suit he would wear tomorrow at the meeting with the leader of the Diamante family. They have risen to power overwhelmingly in recent years, taking over the entire southern part. Uncle Tony fears they will come for our territory. So, cleverly, as soon as Kenta came of age, he talked to them about uniting our families and they plan to discuss marriage. This way, we would become a branch of a single family. The most powerful one.

If Kenta already thinks he is untouchable and almost a god, I don't want to imagine what he will be like when he marries such a capo. They say he is cruel and cold. That he has a gaze so powerful it can freeze your blood. It must be true, because I could see that, although Kenta seemed happy to have the opportunity to gain more power, he also seemed fearful.

At least, if Kenta leaves, they won't keep blaming and punishing me for nothing. Although something tells me Winner will find some excuse to do it. The last time he caught me... I don't want to remember it. The marks still hurt, as if they were a constant reminder of his cruelty. This time, Charlie helped me in secret. When they find out what I did to them, my uncle will torture me again. I just hope they stay in that hole long enough to make it worth it. If they spend the night in that pit and it rains on them, I wouldn't mind at all. I lie there, on my bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling my stomach growl again. It will be a long night, once again, filled with dark thoughts and broken hopes.