The alley was dark, the stench thick in the air. Water dripped from broken pipes overhead. Douglas led me through the narrow passage, his figure blending with the shadows. I stayed close behind, and Jordan trailed us, making sure I didn't run.
We reached a door. Douglas glanced at me, then pushed it open. A dim, grim room waited beyond, lit only by a few flickering bulbs. Two figures stood inside, ones I hadn't expected to see at all.
Elliot and Darius.
Elliot looked nervous, shifting on his feet. Darius had his hands shoved in his pockets, eyes set on something unseen.
I approached them. "Hey, what are you two doing here?"
Elliot stammered, "Uhm, I don't know... Tyler just picked me up without explaining anything."
I turned to Darius, who shrugged. "Same."
"Good. All of you are here," Douglas said, stepping between us. He signaled to Tyler. "Bring them out."
Tyler and a few others disappeared into a side room and returned with three figures, hoods over their heads, shoving them into chairs before us. When the hoods came off, I saw two young men and a fat, bald man.
I didn't recognize any of them.
"Boss... Who are they?" I asked, confusion and worry lacing my voice.
Douglas pointed to the two younger men. "These bastards wrecked your car that night. They survived, unfortunately." Then he jabbed a finger at the bald man. "And this fatty is their boss. He ordered them to borrow money from us and run. Scumbags."
My heart pounded. Memories of that night flooded back.
"Wait... is this what you meant back in the car?" I asked Douglas.
"That's right, kid. You can have your revenge now."
"But why are they here, then?" I asked, referring to Elliot and Darius, hoping they weren't involved with the incident.
"No, of course, they're not. I brought them over because this is a perfect opportunity for you three to learn about how we work." Douglas said. He pulled out a handgun and handed it to me. Jordan did the same for Elliot and Darius.
Elliot recoiled, the gun shaking in his hands. Darius inspected his gun like a professional.
"...What's the meaning of this?" I asked, staring at the weapon before turning back to Douglas. I had the idea of what it meant, but I need him to confirm it
"Use it, revenge yourself," Douglas said coldly. "Show them no one messes with the Clover Group."
My hands trembled as I accepted the gun. It felt heavy and real. The handle fit my hand perfectly. The lock mechanism was on to prevent an accidental shot. I checked the magazine — one bullet. One shot. One kill.
Douglas wanted me to kill one of these guys.
My stomach started to feel weird, like something was swirling around in it.
Darius handled his weapon with frightening ease, testing the grip, loading the magazine, aiming. Like he'd done it countless times before.
Elliot, however, was a mess, barely able to hold on.
"...This isn't what I want. I'm mad, sure, but not like this. I've never killed anyone," I said, my voice rising.
Douglas opened his mouth to respond—
Bang!
A gunshot echoed through the room. We all flinched, even Douglas. Smoke trailed from Darius's gun. One of the young men slumped over, blood pooling from his head.
Darius killed him.
Without emotion. Without hesitation.
He set the gun down. "Anything else?"
Douglas nodded approvingly. Darius walked out, disappearing into the dark alley.
The room was stunned into silence. Douglas smirked. "Interesting," he muttered.
Meanwhile, Elliot fainted on the spot.
Tyler picked him up. "I'll get him home," he said, leaving.
Now it was just Douglas, Jordan, and me.
"Well, kid, you just need to shoot the fatty. I'll handle the last guy," Douglas said. He picked up another gun and—
Bang!
Shot the remaining young man. I flinched again as the body collapsed, blood spreading across the floor, pooling around the dead body.
I wanted to vomit.
This was too brutal.
"What are you waiting for? Shoot him," Douglas commanded.
This was not a request, it was an order.
His voice left no room for argument.
My head spun with guilt, fear, and panic of committing a murder. I'd never fought anyone, let alone killed someone. But if I refused, I knew I'd be next.
Sweat drenched my body. My hands shook as I approached the unconscious bald man.
I raised the gun to his head. My finger hovered over the trigger, hesitating.
Douglas and Jordan stared, waiting.
I closed my eyes, took a shaky breath.
"I'm sorry..."
Bang.
I fired.
I opened my eyes hesitantly, not wanting to see the result of my choice.
He was dead. Blood oozed from a hole in his forehead, over his face.
Horrifying. Real.
No dream. No nightmare.
Reality.
A reality I was now trapped in.
"Good job, kid," Douglas said, but the praise only made me sick.
"...Can I go now?" I muttered.
"Yes, you can. Jordan, escort—"
"No need. I'll go myself," I cut him off, turning away, stepping into the cold darkness beyond.
I walked back to my house. It was very far. I could've ordered an Uber, but that thought didn't cross my mind at all, as all I was thinking was the thing I just did.
Why did I do it?
Did I really have no choice?
What if I make a big mistake?
No one can know about this. Especially Ashley. I couldn't let her know about this. I didn't want her to know that she was dating a murderer.
I'm sorry, Ashley.
I've arrived at my house. The door was not locked. As I walked in, Zack was not in the living room. Probably, in his room. It was for the best. If he saw me like this, I didn't think I could answer him.
I headed to my bedroom. Plopped into the soft mattress, still in my dating suit. I should probably take a shower, but I couldn't care less anymore.
My body felt extremely tired for no reason. My mind started to fade away before I eventually fell asleep.
_____________________________________
It was dark. I couldn't see anything. I felt like I was floating in an empty space with nothing around me. It felt weird but strangely comforting.
But then, I felt something near me. I looked around but I saw nothing.
"Murderer," A faint voice came.
"You are a murderer."
"You killed me."
"You murdered me."
These were echoes all around me. They kept repeating the same things.
"...No," I muttered
"No, I'm not." I denied.
"Don't deny it, murderer." The voice replied.
"I'm not a murderer... "
"Accept it!" The voice shouted.
"I'm not a murderer!" My voice started to rise. "You deserve it!" I pointed at nothing.
"Don't try to justify it, murderer!" It shouted at me.
"I. Am. Not. A. Murderer!"
Then, something horrifying came at me at incredible speed before I woke up. My body was sweating, wetting the bed. I was breathing heavily. It felt so hot despite the AC being on.
I sigh, "I don't know if I can continue like this."