SHADOWLESS LOVE

NOTICE: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS VIOLENCE, AVOID THIS CHAPTER IF YOU FIND IT UNCOMFORTABLE

"Seems like I have some fuckers to serve today." A crooked chuckle slithered from my lips, sharp and venomous. The men before me, guns poised, faltered for a fraction of a second, their resolve wavering under the weight of my declaration. But their composure returned quickly—rookies always love to pretend they're professionals.

"It's been a while, HADES," the leader sneered. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and reeked of desperation masked as authority. His eyes betrayed him—a flicker of fear danced there. Amusing.

"Someone still calls me by name?" I tilted my head, my expression the picture of innocent curiosity. My fingers caressed the edge of the blade in my hand; its dull sheen was promising blood.

The leader flinched ever so slightly as I stepped closer. "It's better if you don't try anything, Hades," he stammered, his voice trembling despite his best efforts to sound commanding.

I laughed, a deep, guttural sound that sent a shiver through their ranks. "Retired, huh?" I mused, dragging out the word like a wolf toying with prey. "I thought I'd left these games behind. But perhaps... a little workout won't be bad."

Their guns snapped up in unison as I stepped out of my house, the door clicking shut behind me. They hesitated—rookie mistake number two. Before they could react, I was among them, a storm of motion and precision.

The first man fell before he even realized I'd moved—my knife slicing clean through his jugular with a sickening squelch. Blood sprayed, painting the air crimson, and I pivoted, grabbing the wrist of another as he tried to bring his weapon to bear. His bones shattered beneath my grip, and the gun clattered uselessly to the ground.

A bullet whizzed past my ear as I ducked, grabbing a third man by the throat. With a feral growl, I slammed him into his comrade, the impact sending them both sprawling. Another came at me from behind with a knife, his movements clumsy and desperate. I caught his wrist mid-swing, twisting until I heard the satisfying snap of bone, then drove my knee into his gut, sending him crumpling to the ground.

Pathetic.

The so-called leader stood frozen, his head hanging low as if in surrender. Coward. But cowards are often snakes, and snakes bite when you least expect.

As I turned my back on him, the faintest sound of movement reached my ears. Without hesitation, I snatched a lifeless body from the ground and hurled it into the path of the incoming strike. The leader's makeshift weapon—a metal pipe—connected with the corpse instead of my skull, the force sending him stumbling backward.

I stood over him now, my chest heaving, my hands and face slick with blood. The smell of iron hung heavy in the air.

"How... how is this possible?" The leader choked out, his voice shrill with disbelief. "HOW CAN YOU WIPE OUT CORK'S BEST MEN WITH A DAMN BUTTER KNIFE?"

I tilted my head, my lips curling into a predatory grin. "If twenty men were enough to take me down," I said, kneeling before him, "I wouldn't have earned the name HADES."

BANG! BANG!

Two quick shots rang out behind me. Without turning, I fired back, the bullets finding their marks with lethal precision. The leader's face drained of color as he realized his reinforcements were gone. His body began to tremble. They always do in the end.

"Who sent you?" I asked, my voice low and icy.

He stammered, his words unintelligible. I grabbed his hand and began to break his fingers, one by one. His screams tore through the night, raw and guttural, but I didn't blink, didn't falter.

"Was it the president or the vice president?" I demanded, my tone as cold as death itself.

"VICE PRESIDENT!" he finally screamed, tears streaming down his bloodied face.

I smiled, leaning in closer. "You mean... the president."

His eyes widened in horror, his breath hitching as the realization hit him. "No, please—"

My blade plunged into his chest, silencing him mid-beg. His eyes bulged, the light fading from them as his body went limp.

Standing over his corpse, I wiped the blood from my face with the back of my hand, my smile fading into something darker, more sinister.

"Don't worry," I murmured to the lifeless body. "I'll send your president to join you soon. Enjoy hell."

A slow clap echoed from the rooftop of my house, pulling my attention upward. There he was—my so-called best friend, perched casually like some overgrown crow, grinning from ear to ear. His raven-black hair caught the faint glint of moonlight, a charming contrast to his annoyingly perfect jawline. Typical Cassian—always treating chaos like a spectator sport.

"Bravo, AERON!" he called, his smooth, rich voice laced with amusement. "It's been ages since I've seen your knife artistry in action."

He leaped down with effortless grace, landing a little too neatly in front of me. His brown eyes sparkled mischievously, but there was something sharper behind them—a glimmer of admiration mixed with just the right amount of wariness. Cassian always had a knack for looking annoyingly composed, even in the middle of the carnage, with his tailored black coat and that perpetual smirk that screamed troublemaker.

"Why don't I start practicing with you daily?" I smirked, watching his grin falter slightly as he took a step back.

"Ah, I don't think Bubu would appreciate losing his favorite uncle so soon," he stammered, letting out a nervous laugh. His smile was still plastered on, but I caught the way his shoulders tensed. Clever bastard—always pulling my kid into things to save his own neck.

I threw one last glance at the lifeless bodies sprawled across the ground, the metallic tang of blood thick in the air. "Wrap their heads up nicely and send them to Cork," I said, starting toward the backyard without another look at the mess.

Behind me, Cassian chuckled, his grin returning full force. "That guy's going to piss himself for sure."

I laughed darkly, the sound low and deliberate. "Who knows," I replied with a wicked gleam in my eye, "he might need to reattach his thing to do that, right, Cassian?"

Cassian froze mid-step, his face contorting into a mix of horror and disbelief. "What does that even mean?" he asked, his voice pitched higher than usual as he gawked at me.

I turned to him, flashing my infamous pure, innocent smile—the kind that never boded well for anyone. "Oh, nothing much," I said, my tone light but my words dripping with command. "Just make sure I don't see a single bloodstain around my house."

Cassian groaned, running a hand through his hair. "You've got a real knack for ruining a good vibe, you know that?"

"Better get to it," I called over my shoulder, the grin on my face widening as I disappeared into the shadows.