That voice belonged to Chevy and there was no doubt about it. Only the fact that the notorious leader DJ had seen outside the cottage, a cruel bastard, tall and built like a tank, drenched in oils and grease which made his body shine in the light of the lit fire was descending the concrete stairs, produced an urgent feeling of distress in DJ’s system.

The notes in his voice were mocking, filled with jeer as he continued down the stairs with thudding, loud steps.

“he doesn’t listen now, does he? Sending men, one after another for me to kill and hang in my yard?” a drunken sneer resounded in the basement. Jerry shivered to his core, eyes fixated on the staircase, awaiting his demise.

Nausea built in his stomach, and a strange rumbling twisted his guts uncomfortably making the detective want to throw up his insides.

The young boy has come too far; he has accomplished many stages of danger and unease and protected himself from the vultures of Malia while establishing his newfound identity of being an honest, innocent merchant. Regardless of being terrified shitless, DJ has stretched his boundaries to reach where he was, the rescue of lord Yael, only to be hurdled right before he was going to succeed.  

What a luck!

For the first time in his miserable life, DJ experienced the time slowing down against his rapidly beating heart. Whispering in his ears was the constant ragged pattern of his breathing. Blaring in his brain were the daunting steps descending, thudding against the boxes. His large doe eyes, behind the glasses, caught the soft rising and falling of Yael’s chest as the latter breathed through his nose. Finally, his senses told him about the swift drop of sweat resulting from heat and anxiety that made its way from the centre of his curvy back towards his belt secured on his hip.

This is it, this is what he feared all this time. The man, who was just a few feet away and behind the bars, was the reason that his life was going to be cut short. He was going to get killed by the man he had come to know as a brutal human being, the worst kind, who wouldn’t hesitate to kill him even if Jerry begged him on his knees and hands.

He was going to die. Chevy was coming for him, he would kill him and then hang his head in his front yard proudly.

A tremble shot through his body when the drunken man kicked something harshly on his way down making Jerry jerk on his spot. Instinctively, his hands flew to grip his disturbed stomach just to collect himself. But then, small fingers softly grazed against something he had totally forgotten about.

Upon feeling a hard metal object hidden under the thick layers of clothes, Jerry stopped his dangerously racing thoughts and snapped his focus on the defence he had carried all the way to the basement.

The revolver.

The detective patted at his clothes, he curled his tiny fingers around the weapon as he chased after the memory of him talking on the phone with the well-wisher of Yael. He distinctly remembered the unknown caller informing him of the crucial fact that Yael was the only one who could save him regardless of any situation.

Maybe this is the best time he should put the claim to the test because even after holding the revolver in his hands, a clear deadly weapon that can be used first-hand to save his own life, Jerry couldn’t muster up the courage to fire a shot.  

Meanwhile, Yael stood there in silence. Observing the situation keenly, he tried to grasp the situation he found himself in the longest five months of tranquillity. The words, somewhat incoherent yet understandable, tumbling out of Chevy’s drunken tongue were clearing the suspicions he had.

According to his abductor, Lord Doukas, his father, has sent many men for the rescue of his son who ended up being dead somehow. But, as per Yael’s record, none of them reached the place he was kept in, the basement.

He hadn’t seen any of them that had come for him in the past months. If they had, of course, Yael would know. The man was very observant of his surroundings. Although restrained underground, Yael was well aware of new voices that visited, movements above in the cottage and the hushed talks the men had when they thought he wasn’t listening.

Sharp-witted and calm was the man who ruled Pyro.   

The Lord then looked at the plump man in front of him on the other side of the bars, visibly shaking and in distress. In his view, the old man looked like a scared child, his beard and moustache playing no role in giving him any mature look.

He scoffed under his breath when he realized who had finally made it to the exact location for his rescue of all people. A fat, round old man, who looked like he would go unconscious if a dog barked near his ear.

Yael wanted to laugh.

The suspicious, scrutinizing yet annoyed gaze of Yael shifted into something else quickly when he noticed the small old man was patting at his clothes in a fast motion. Yael looked at the short male closely, he stared without blinking when the other produced a revolver somewhere from his clothes.  

Maybe he wasn’t that stupid.

Just then a loud thud resounded near the end of the staircase and Yael caught the fat man jumping on his spot. A glass bottle rolled down the last step before shattering into pieces and after that came in view the man surprisingly both Yael and Jerry despised.

“Well well well……look who is here. A rescuer or should I say my next prey?” Chevy barked a laugh at the end of the small hallway, he swayed from foot to foot showing off his drunken state. Lord Yael wasn’t visible from where Chevy stood, his sight only filled with the faint, blurry figure of the old man standing at the other end.

“Good for me since I am gonna add your head into my trophies,” Chevy said and upon hearing that, tears pooled in Jerry’s eyes.

‘This is the end of me’

Yael glanced at the old man and then at the gun in his small hands but he refrained from uttering a breath and continued watching silently. Jerry, on the other hand, followed his gaze with teary eyes. In his turmoil and helplessness, the boy could only pray to the powers above.

Chevy was moving closer now.

Slowly raising the gun in the air, Jerry turned his body from Chevy’s clear view and then made contact with Yael’s questioning eyes.

“H-help me p-ple-ase. Sa-ave me” he whispered with a wobbly chin and dewy eyes. After praying for one last time, begging for his safety, DJ tossed the gun towards the lord, catching him off-guard.  

Instinctively, lord Yael caught the weapon in his hands. He stared at the revolver then lifted his gaze back at the old man. There were visible tears in his big doe eyes that tugged something in Yael’s heart. Involuntarily, his lips parted to say something that could provide the least bit of comfort to the oldie, before he could deliver anything, Chevy’s voice echoed in the narrow hallways.

“Who the fuck are you, huh?” Chevy roared, voice so loud that Jerry felt his soul leaving his body. The detective was now standing straight, facing Chevy. All his façade of being an old merchant was betraying him, surfacing his cowardly, innocent form which was scared of his shadows sometimes.

Chevy was close to the cell lord Yael was in. Seeing that, the lord quickly backtracked to his chair in the cell and sat on it, showing his back to the grilled door.

Jerry saw that clearly and the boy’s last hope shattered just like that.  

“oh my……I expected someone young and fiery like the one I killed last time. But you are a fucking old man…” Chevy cackled in his hideous loud voice, making fun of the detective.

DJ, despite being terrified, found it quite cringe, to say the least. He shivered to lessen the feeling, staring at the man who was closing distance at a slow pace. But then, Chevy stopped in his tracks. The laughter was gone and replacing it was a hard glare that formed on the man’s already daunting features making him look dangerous like an animal.

Chevy and lord Doukas shared a long history. And although Chevy was much younger than lord Doukas, he knew Ezekiel as he knew like the back of his hand. He had encountered many of the men Ezekiel had sent for his son and Chevy had killed them all but now that a small old man is standing in front of him, present in Chevy’s domain to rescue the lord, Chevy’s mind bubbled with suspicion.

“Ezekiel can’t be that stupid to send someone like you for his son. An old man to fight me?” Chevy announced his sceptical thoughts out loud while throwing a quick glance inside the cell. Finding lord Yael seemingly sleeping on his chair like he used to every day, he fixated his eyes back on the detective.

“Who are you?” he asked without any trace of humour. This time he was serious, scanning DJ’s frame up and down.

“I..I….” Jerry stuttered badly, he shrunk when Chevy started to walk closer to him. Feeling his heart trembling, the detective slowly began stepping back until there was no space behind him. With his heavily clothed back touching the wall behind him, the boy stared wide-eyed at the gang leader.

“what’s your name? Who the fuck are you!!!?” Chevy growled in DJ's face, his disgustingly stinky breath fanned over his pale white face, fogging his glasses and making him gag suddenly. The detective didn’t know what to answer about who he was but he discerned that he could provide at least his identity when the gang leader was asking this nicely.

“A-Alberto….I—I….” he stuttered trying to convey something in his defence but that didn’t help. Chevy grabbed him by his nape, digging his fingers in DJ’s skin and taking his breath away almost instantly, before throwing him on the ground.

DJ gasped audibly as he crashed to the hard floor with a cry. Hot tears of helplessness and pain blurred his vision, he wanted to cry so bad, wanted to mourn his miserable fate that brought such scenarios in his life but he couldn’t since it wasn’t the appropriate time.

From his foggy vision, Jerry managed to see Chevy coming closer once again, hovering over his small trembling frame. DJ tried to stagger back and turn around to run for his life only so he couldn’t be pinned down on the ground but that futile attempt of his left him with utter failure.

Chevy was fast to grab the old man from his middle. Without giving Jerry any time to register, he slapped him across his already red face making DJ’s prescription glasses fly from his face and onto the ground. And then in the next second, the gang leader pushed DJ to the ground on his stomach, dug his knee in the middle of the old man’s back, earning a loud cry, and held Jerry in a strong headlock.

With his small hands twisted behind his back, Jerry’s neck was craned in a painful position while Chevy breathed heavily on his neck.

There was no point in running now, he was caught and was never going to see another sunrise.

“you think you can run away just like that huh? After sneaking inside my property, you think I will let you go?” Jerry squirmed his last attempts, trying to break free his neck which was hurting so badly. He was sure about supporting harsh grip marks over his skin if he ever lived to see his reflection.

“tell me who sent you here……tell me!!!!” Chevy screeched loudly that DJ felt his ears would bleed. The boy was losing hope every minute the grip around his neck tightened. He squirmed and thrashed to no avail, tears flowing out of his eyes and onto his cheeks like a salty waterfall.

Maybe he shouldn’t have given the gun to lord Yael who apparently has turned his back towards Jerry and isn’t interested in saving his ass.

“oh, you are so dead Alberto……..say goodbye to this world oldie……” the words echoed in Jerry’s hazy mind as he counted his last minute on this earth. The young detective was so ready to die that he didn’t notice when two gunshots followed by metal clanking echoed in the damp, smelly basement over the constant growling threats Chevy was throwing in his ears.

But then, everything stopped. Chevy was drifting away from him; his neck was released causing a series of wild coughs clogging his breathing pipe. DJ coughed wildly as he tried to move away from the gang leader.

An intrigued part of him made him look back at the man who was strangling him a minute ago. But to his utter surprise, in his wide sight, stood lord Yael in all his glory. The lord, whom Jerry had to look by tipping his chin up to the point it hurt, stood there with glaring eyes boring right into Chevy’s drunken ones.

On the other hand, Chevy, who had heard the gunshots loud and clear at his back, left the old man in his grasp with a jerk before quickly standing up on his wobbly legs. The gang leader stared at the open, busted lock of the cell door before raising his dark gaze at the lord he had kept in his custody for months.

Chevy, aware of Pyro's power and Yael's influence over the empire, wasn’t a man to charge a conflict with Doukas’s, but the thrill of capturing a man who could ruin his life was unmatched.

But now, all of it was coming to an end

They stared at each other with similar fire and potential hatred until…….

“kill me before you escape lord………otherwise, I will come after your life again” Chevy muttered with a smirky cackle while staring at Yael. Lord Yael didn’t answer his plea, neither with words nor with action.

Instead, he opted to inquire about a question he wanted to be answered so badly.

“Who is he?” Yael’s booming voice resounded, asking for the person behind his abduction, as he raised the gun in Chevy’s direction.

“I keep my secrets lord….can’t tell” Chevy teased with a shrug, he chuckled seeing a wave of fury erupting in lord’s eyes. The gang leader knew what was coming next, he knew what he deserved after he riled the lord of Pyro.

And he was right, the next moment came and he was flying to the ground in agony. Two bullets penetrated his torso while Jerry yelped in surprise. With wide saucer eyes, DJ watched Chevy falling to the ground as he groaned in pain.

Yael just stood there watching him.

To their luck, no otherbody entered the basement looking for their leader. Perhaps, they were busy drinking and singing. Several minutes of quiet went by. Chevy was unconscious by the time Jerry collected himself. The boy was still on the ground, in his dishevelled state.

“I-Is he de-dead Lo-lord?” Jerry stammered, slowly standing up from the ground, still scared.  As soon as the honey-like whisper reached his sharp ears, Yael turned to face Alberto who was now looking like a homeless man.

‘How can an old man sound so beautiful?’ Yael thought in his mind with a sceptical gaze on the other’s short form.

“No. He will live” Yael said looking up and down Alberto. The boy only nodded his head like a child, eyeing Chevy’s wounded body on the floor. Yael wanted to ask many questions but didn’t have much time for a proper conversation so he opted to leave the prison first.

“come on, let’s get out of here,” he said marching forward to the staircase, briefly looking back at the home he lived in for many months, before climbing up the stairs.

Jerry followed him quietly.

 ....

toodles~