PARKER | Dark H.S. AU

xliv. bang bang into the room

WARNING: This chapter is quite disturbing; think twice before you read.

Copyright © zylgnagnaba 2014

Parker has always been a well put-together person; imprudent and intimidating. And he has a reason to be, because he's always one step ahead of his game. No one had ever dared to outsmart him. His rivals either just died trying or hid in places out of the grid in fear of being hunted down. He has a great reputation of holding someone at gunpoint and shoot them between their eyes without even blinking, without feeling a pinch of remorse. He has no conscience...to say the least.

To see him unnerved is totally out of character. His men watch him cautiously as he sits on his throne in the middle of the large lounge. Elbow props up from the arm of the chair, his chin supported by the heel of his palm and forefinger poking at the corner of his lips. His brows crease together, head casted down as he looks at nothing in particular. The stress eats away at him while his thoughts wander from the scene earlier in the university to the desire to kill the unknown culprit. His throat bobs up and down, swallowing hard. He's exasperated that he doesn't have the upperhand. Without the identity of Kenneth's murderer, he remains to be in the dark just waiting for another attack. Until then, he's as clueless as a chimp. Who could be in the big mission to bring him down?

The room is dim -- it looks hellish with the combination of the tension hanging in the air; the only source of light coming from the lamp next to Parker's chair. All the men around him wearing all sorts of article in the shades of black stand on edge, waiting for another bark of orders from their master like a hound of hungry lapdogs.

Another one of their members is killed. That's a total of four gang members within the past several months -- Devon, Marcus, Fitzgerald and Kenneth. Whoever is doing this, they are certain that he won't stop at nothing until he gets his hands on their master. But they wouldn't allow that. Something about loyalty or debt of gratitude -- or just to boost their ego and impress Parker.

Parker's posture suddenly straightens up on his chair, hands landing on both arms of the chair and eyes staring up at the beautiful painting mounted on a wall across from him. When he acquired the house three years ago, the painting was already there along with other furnitures. He sold the furnitures, but the painting remains where it has been for three years. It reminds him of all his hard works and he won't allow no one to stomp him back down to square one...not even the faceless person in the quest to have him dead.

His brows pull together, gaze boring holes on the piece of art as his fists clench against the furnished wood where he sits.

"Create a list of all our enemies for the past four years. We'll pay them visits." An evil smirk tugs at his lips, a grave undertone behind his words, eyes narrowing down to slits as his mind work wonders in which could only bring satisfaction to his cold heart and taut bones.

A series of snickers from his men follows his statement, nodding and sharing looks of amusement to one another as their conniving minds can perfectly see where this command is leading.

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"I swear to God, Parker, I don't know what you're talking about. I-I would never t-try or, or even think about k-killing you. I t-thought w-we're already f-friends."

Parker looms over the burly man crouched down in front of him. The man's hands interlaced with one another while kneeling down, begging for his dear life.

It is hard to distinguish his tears from his sweat as they pool together over his bloodcurdled face. His whole frame is trembling enough to cause tremors to the entire floor of the apartment.

The mere sight sends tingling sensation at the pit of Parker's stomach, eliciting a devious smile to form around his lips. This is exactly what he lives for; people kneeling in front of him, pleading as if he has their lives in his own hands. In a way, he has. It makes him happy, self-fulfilled...pure evil.