Chapter Text
ONE
Blood. Mo ran could taste and feel it in the air. Soon it would be theirs, tainting the marble mosaic floors. They were just kids. Shi mei the oldest, seventeen, mo ran sixteen, xue meng fifteen. Yet they kneels, their mouths bound, tip ties holding their hands together.
“What should we do with them master?” The bald man who had caught them on a near by roof spoke. Mo rams eyes were trained to the floor, a fear creeping up his spine. They ad not known whos building it was. Mo ran only brought them up to impress shi mei. You could see both the golden city from across the river and the red hued outer city. Like a golden heart. Xue meng had tagged along daring mo ran that he wouldn't climb higher. Those taunts drilling into his brain.
Now they kneeled before a faceless man. Gold and finery lacing each corner of the room. The smell of sweet flowers and honey filling the room with the slightest hint of sandalwood.
“Pick on of them and dispose of them. Teach the other two a lesson and let them go. They will learn.” the voice was like a cold ice bath. Sharp as steel. Mo rans head shot up at the words. His eyes wide looking around wildly. The man who had stood next to the man moved swiftly into motion. He walked over, not towards xue meng or mo ran. But shi mei who had been silently weeping.
Mo ran had no time to think as he pushed his body forward. Knocking xue meng behind shi mei, and putting himself shi mei. A burning determination in his eyes as he looked up into the mans dark eyes. The man seemed to find amusement in his display. Reaching to grab his collar.
“Not that one.” The cold voice calmly said, as if picking a bread from the bakery. The mans hand reached out for shi mei instead. Mo ran quickly kicking the mans feet from under him. The man falling flat on his face. Mo ran jumping over him.
Muffle and gagged plea’s filling his ears but he did not care. He used the skills his uncle had taught him, cutting the ties on the knife had on his waist. Gripping within his had firmly. A cold sweat making it hard to grip efficiently. But he launched at the man, dressed in traditional white clothes. A fan covering his face, his knife aimed for him.
He did not make it three steps before golden streak flung out, searing the side of his face. Knocking him back. He fell onto the floor, strong hands almost instantly hauling him up. A golden whip lay sprawled on the floor. Small glimmering leaves line its length. No not leaves, small razor like edges shaped in the style of a curling willow branch.
“ It was a flawed attempt.” The person said almost bored, the fan lowering ever so slightly. Golden eyes peaking from the other side. They seemed to sear into Mo rans soul as he stared. His blood dripping onto the floor.
“Take the one who is crying.” The cold voice said,and on que two men picked up Shi mei and pulled him away from where they had just sat. If only he had been the one to go. His heart glossing over in hatred. His eyes locked with the mans eyes. Hoping his anger was evident on his face as he swore on the gods he would see that mans blood on his own hands. Splashed at his feet, only then will he be satisfied.
A gun shot rang out from rooms away, xue meng crying out in fear. The cloth shoved in his mouth making any words lost. Mo ran fought, trying to rip himself from the hands of the men. His eyes crying but not just out of sorrow. But rage. Mo ran spat curses, and threats into the muffle. His body shaking.
“He seems to wish to speak. Let him.” The man said, the golden eyes still peaking out from behind the fan. The cloth soon ripped from his mouth. The eruption of sound, making the man glare.
“I swear it on my life,and the life you just took. I will find you and fuck you so badly that you will wish for death.” Mo ran spat. Not realizing himself that he had ment to say fuck him over so badly. But the words he had said not coming off to that nature. His rage so thick he did not even think it over as he snarled at the man.
“Take them out of here and drop them outside our borders. I don't want to see them in this room again.” The man seemed to now be holding a cold fury. The golden eyes still fixed onto mo ran. The men dragged both of them from the room. Xue meng not putting up a fight like mo ran was.
“Your life is mine!” Mo ran screamed as they pulled him through the door way. His snarled threats not making the man shift expression. With a frustrated grumble one of the men holding hit mo ran over the head. His world going dark.
```` 5 years later````
The rain poured down like a thick haze. But mo ran didn't care. His eye trained on the scope of the gun. His fingers stead over the trigger. His breath even and his mind still. A mans face lined up in the scope. His eyes brown eyes and even the hairs of his head visible to mo ran from three buildings away. He fired.
He didn't need to check to see if the man fall. The faint screams reaching his ears almost instantly. He pulled the small burner from his pocket. ‘Done.’ Was he said before crushing it under his foot. The man was a main player in a child sex traffic ring, mo ran felt no sympathy for the death. Not that he ever did regardless of who it was. He never took a job that he would regret.
Having standards for a rouge for hire was not common but he prided himself in the humanity he had managed to keep in tack. He packed the gun away quickly into a hardcover guitar bag. The stickers and pictures of his family sealed onto its surface. A relic of the life he once had. Shi meis face a painful reminder of the goals he had not come any closer to achieving.
The cold rain dripping off his face as he climbed down the building. His feet landing in the alleyway. His thick boots splashed down into a puddle. The water washing any residue that may track back to him off. He shrugged the case into a more comfortable position, a heady sigh coming from him. He looked to the dark clouded sky. The red lights of the underground making it look as if they outer city was hell itself.
He pushed forward. Slipping down alleyways that were now as familiar as himself. The overflowing dumpsters to the cats and raccoons that frequent them. The homeless who often give him small roasted sweet potatoes on his way through. Occasionally coming out to offer them some soup he had made, giving to the community that seemed to accept him at his worst.
The rain was pouring down so heavily by the time mo ran pushed through the doors of the abandoned warehouse he had trouble navigating to the door. His boots filled with water, his body soaked to the bone. His boots, squelching on the concrete stairs.
He had left his family a little over two years ago. He wandered around the city for days, angry and alone. Only having what he had in his backpack. Getting involved in a gang war he had only just managed to stay alive. Stumbling on his blind escape to this place.
Mo ran opened the elevator, a rickety old thing. But it worked. He stepped on and he let himself droop against the side as it descended. He stepped out into the room. The door locked with a small passcode lock. He had poured almost every dime he had into this room and the one he lived in upstairs. A place to call home.
He pushed the door open and inside light up. Dark cabinets locked with small silver padlocks and a long mahogany table. He placed the case on the table. Popping open the latches, he began the long process of taking the gun apart cleaning any and every small crevice. Leaving no evidence on the machine that it had been fired.
He didn't need to clean them each time but he did. He would scrub and clean until every ounce of evidence was wiped both from the cold metal but his soul as well. Tell nothing but the shadow remained.
He pulled the necklace from his shirt, several small keys dangling there. He pulled one from the bunch and unlocked the silver pad. Placing the sniper rifle in the cabinet, another in a deep matt black sat next too it. Mo rans initials carved into them. He didn't let himself linger as he closed the cabinet. His soaked clothes were still dripping onto the floor as he took off his boots. He withdrew the several small throwing knives from the small pockets he had sewn into the heavy boots. He tossed them onto a shoe rack and flicked on a heating lamp so that they would be dry when he next wore them.
Turning in his chair he took a moment to look at the wall hidden in the corner beside the tall gun cabinet. Pictures of faces, and red string seemed to be carelessly thrown on the wall. Small newspaper clippings and blurry images filled the space. A map of the entire city, the ever changing political borders marked in ink. One name scrawled above it all. Chu wanning.
````` To be continued```````
( OMG GUYS HEYY, so this is a little short but i love that i am writing more in my style now. Less lazy is more like it tbh. But lemme know what yall think! I am unsure how often ill be uploading but i will probably get the first 5 out pretty quick then go to a schedule so i can work on my real job and my other fics as well. LOVE YOU ALL. Also note this story is going to be very very dark at times so plz keep that in mind. And you cant stop my shi mei slander here either mwahahahahaha fuk him. )