mafia's innocent

mafia's innocent

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WpMetadataNoticeÚltima publicación lun, dic 2, 2024
run away from the mention untill i found a main road and i run on the road cause what if i lost in the forest. i run for almost 30 minutes and i fell tired and wanted to drink water. out of breath i started running again when i saw four black cars coming this way. maybe going from when i escaped "no no no it can't be" "he would not be in it" "he was coming on afternoon" "god NO" i step back when those cars stopped and the door of the G wagon opened which was the first car on the line and he was in it. the devil, my capture. i saw him and but he didn't came near me i leave the main road and went on the Forest runing so fast and tears starts to gather and starts runing on my cheeks he followed me even faster then me and i can seen home from the corner of my eye. a rock hit my feet and i was almost on the ground when he held my elbow . and drags me towards him and now i was inche away from him. "you were running han" i saw his eyes all red and he clinks his jaw he drags me towards the car and opens the passenger seat and almost through me inside. he sit to his side and drive the car like it is flying. it took me 30 minutes to reach here and a minute for him to drive there. the large white door opens and i don't know where the tears coming from, he stop the car Infront of the mention and drags me outside the car. my eyes can't stop the tears and my body can't stop shivering.
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Pyro

Let me tell you my story, the one about how I died. Don't worry, though. I came back. They say when someone shares their story, they're sharing their burden. Seeking someone to help carry the weight that bends their shoulders, hoping their troubles will float away like helium balloons into the endless sky. Your silence becomes their sanctuary, a vacuum they fill with dust-covered memories. If you speak, do it gently - a nod, a smile, the ghost of a touch on their shoulder. But my story? It's different. It carved its path because trust becomes a luxury I could no longer afford. How could it not, when the one person who swore to never betray me did exactly that? The one who promised never to hurt me, broke me. The one who vowed to stay, walked away. So tell me, why trust anyone else when the person I trusted the most killed me in every way but physical? Until they managed that too. They say the most dangerous predators are the ones who look like prey. I learned this truth through split knuckles and shattered promises, through blood on my tongue and threats whispered against skin. Through playing weak while gathering my strength in darkness. Now I watch him, this self-proclaimed hunter in his own game. He doesn't see he's just another piece being moved across someone else's board. The mafia's golden prince, they whisper. If only they knew what lurks beneath that polished veneer. What dances behind those eyes that mirror the shadows I know so well. But shadows? They're born from fire. And somewhere out there, someone's striking matches, leaving black roses on cooling ashes, drawing closer with every corpse that falls. They call him Pyro. And when that name drops in a room. Well, let's just say I'm not the only one with secrets worth killing for. Some demons wear designer suits. Some victims wear crowns. And some fires are worth burning for. Welcome to the game. Trust no one. Not even me.

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