Elysian Tragedy

Οκτω-𝕰𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙

Have you ever felt you outcried yourself? Crying so hard for no reason and all reasons at the same time. That was me. I was blessed, I was grateful, but every single time I broke down. Hyperventilating not finding a meaning in life, being so angry at yourself, at everything really. Almost psychotic you could say. Bat shit crazy.

Truth was people don't care about you, until you're in a hospital or dead. Even then they continue on with their lives, it's the way it goes. But it's suffocating. I was trapped in nightmares. Every single person around me couldn't understand, hell I couldn't understand. My anger, my rage was so much I could barely control it. All people are selfish, I had to be too.

People, friends they only saw what they wanted to see. A rich girl doing good in life. That is as far as they would go. If it wasn't for skating I doubt I'd be around.

My head hurt like shit. I was asleep but conscious at the same time. My thoughts were swirling with images of me breaking down, screaming and falling to the ground.

I snapped my eyes open l, only to realize I was in a bed drenched in sweat. I tried getting up, but my hands and feet were handcuffed to the bed. I felt nauseous, cranking my head to the side, I was horrified to see an airplane window. No no no this can't be happening. I tried to calm myself down and think radically. What was the last thing that happened? I remember rounding the corner to the rink and then everything blacks out form there.

I tried getting a better look at my surroundings, obviously I was in a private plane, that much I could tell. Suddenly I hear a groan, I turn my head to the direction only to realize the presence of a bruised and battered man. He was handcuffed to a seat, unlike me though he was dripping in blood. It was a horrifying sight.

"Hey what happened to you?"
The battered man slowly raised his eyes, and I felt like I knew him, though it was hard to tell from all the wounds gashing blood.

"Don't recognize me sweetheart?" He spoke with an accent, a Bulgarian one that much I could tell.

It hit me, I had seen him before at the rink. Three years ago he Almost saw me sneaking on the ice during after hours. Shit. He was loosing consciousness, I needed answers fast, if I wanted to get far away from this hella shady situation.

"Hey wake up, why are we here? Do you know these people?"
He raised his gaze at me and started chuckling, his eyes were blank, soulless but they also held arrogance in them.

"Your father made a deal with me, you see these people..."
A banging noise made me close my eyes shut and caused my ears to ring, opening them I saw the man with a fresh gun wound on his torso. Now I started panicking, usually I'm very calm, you have to be smarter than the person willing to hurt you, but being up in the air, kidnapped and witnessing a murder made me question that.

I lock eyes with the murder, Marco they guy form the rink. Shit.

"The guy is a talker isn't he?" He spoke, his accent almost untraceable and his eyes piercing mine, expecting almost looking forward to me breaking down. Fully aware that my life was in danger I kept quiet, peering at him under my lashes.

He walked over to me, I tried keeping my cool and stop myself from cowering under his arrogant gaze. He uncuffed me from the bed and started leading my towards the lounge of the massive private jet. We were propably preparing for landing, otherwise why would he bother moving me, I doubt it was because he cared about me being in the same cabin as a corpse.

As he led the way, pulling me with him by my handcuffs, his suit jacket rose to reveal a handgun strapped in the side of his slacks. I tried reaching for it but the narrow hallway only made it more difficult for me. Shit was about to go down, I didn't spend all these summers getting beaten to death by Antony to throw it all away now. I missed his sarcastic ass. Focus.

Leonardo De Vito POV

Hanging around in the lounge I Heard the sound of a gunshot. Marco must've killed that son of a bitch. Dario won't be too happy about it. The sound of footsteps alarmed me, I wasn't ready for Dario's rage.

I saw Marco tripping and falling on his knees in front of me and almost started laughing. When I saw a figure behind him my eyes grew wide.

"Turn the fucking plane around bastard"

I was shocked to see the girl and stood there frozen. Marco quickly got up and tried to snatch the gun away from her but she clicked off the safety and pointed it at his head.

Armonia POV

Seeing as we were approaching an open space, I took the opportunity, I kicked the guy and snatched the gun before he fell down, catching him completely off guard.

"Turn the fucking plane around bastard" i spoke icily looking into the eyes of the younger one, still not knowing his name. Marco tried reversing the situation but I was quick to click off the safety and point it at his head. They looked stunned that I even knew how to hold it, let alone use it.

"Are you deaf i said Turn the fucking plane around"

Suddenly I felt the cold barrel of a gun being pressed to the side of my forehead.

"Do they look like pilots to you,dolcezza?"

He spoke and a chill ran down my side, his accent thick and his tone laced with malice. I stood for a moment contemplating my choices. I could shoot the younger one, I was in a good range for a kill shot, but then I wouldn't have enough time to get to the second one , Marco, not to mention that I would already have a bullet to planted in my skull.

The sound of the safety being clicked off, made me realize that I probably took too long and drifted off, putting the safety back on I turned around to lock eyes with him. The devil. He stared at me intently, his eyes soulless and lips turned into a smirk.

"Drop the gun" He ordered, and I did seeing as he had already won the fight. This time.

I felt a pierce on my arm and a feeling I recognized all too well. Sedative substance mixing with my blood making me feel fuzzy and the god-like face of my kidnapper blurry.

Fucking shit.