Raiden Ferrara

The tires crunched against the dirt road, stirring up dust that clung to the setting sun like smoke. I leaned back in my seat, one leg crossed over the other, fingers drumming idly against my thigh. We were getting close. The air was thicker out here, heavier with silence, anticipation and something else I couldn’t name.

Billy sat next to me, his tablet glowing faintly as he skimmed through the most recent updates. Ever the perfectionist.

“What’s the latest?” I asked without turning to him.

“Abandoned property. No cameras, no neighbors. G’s crew has been using it for a while. Unregistered. Convenient, discreet.” He paused, squinting slightly at the screen. “Ugly place, though.”

“Perfect,” I muttered. “Just the kind of filth that needs burning.”

This wasn’t just about territory. It was about balance. Power. Debt. The smugglers who had squatted in that house owed money to men even worse than them and worse than me. My family had an understanding with those deeper in the food chain. If we didn’t act, the rot would spread.

Still, I wasn’t a fan of getting my hands dirty. Not directly.

“We burn it down,” I said simply. “Leave no trace.”

Billy looked over at me, always pretending to be the cautious one. “That’s not exactly subtle.”

I allowed myself a faint smirk. “Good. Subtlety’s for diplomats. We’re here to be understood.”

The cars slowed as we approached the clearing. I stepped out before the engine even fully died, gravel crunching beneath my boots. The air out here was cold, sharp. Honest.

My men had already fanned out, circling the farmhouse like shadows given purpose. Guns drawn, orders memorized.

Angelo’s voice came through my earpiece. “Movement inside. Wasn’t supposed to be anyone here.”

I exhaled slowly. “Could be stragglers.”

Billy glanced at me. “You want to call it off?”

“No.” My voice was steady. “We use it. Let the message be clearer.”

“Copy that,” Angelo replied.

“Then get rid of them,” I said.

The line went quiet.

I stepped forward, past the first row of parked vehicles and stood at the edge of the forest. The house loomed in the distance, weathered wood, black windows like hollow eyes. I could already feel the heat of the fire that hadn’t yet started.

Then I heard it, rustling. Not from the house.

From the woods.

I turned my head sharply. And there, between the trees, a figure.

Stumbling. Limping. Small.

A girl?

Billy leaned toward me, squinting. “That’s new.”

I didn’t respond. My eyes locked on her, unsteady feet, tangled hair, one arm pressed to her side like she was holding herself together. She moved like someone who wasn’t supposed to be alive anymore.

A voice whispered in my earpiece. “Someone escaping?”

“Not likely. There’s no exit on that side,” someone replied. Their voice was low, cautious.

And yet, there she was.

Gunshots cracked the air. The first wave. Followed by a muffled scream.

But I stayed frozen, watching her.

“What are you thinking?” Billy asked.

What was I thinking?

I didn’t even know.

All I could do was stare at the silhouette staggering into the shadows. There was a desperation in her movement. And something else, something… real.

Then I spoke, softly but with certainty.

“I think we weren’t the first monsters she ran from.”

Another explosion lit the sky orange in the distance. The house was going up and still, I watched the woods, wondering who she was and why it suddenly mattered to me.