A man coughed blood. His crimson-coloured blood blended with the red carpet in the room turning it dark red.
The weather outside was dull, with dark clouds covering the night sky, shrouding the world beneath, in a blanket of utter darkness. A bright flash of lightning struck, highlighting the lavish decorations of the dimly lit room. Winds started to blow swiftly signalling the arrival of an impending storm. Seconds later, the sky rumbled loudly with the majestic roar of thunder. The rain started to pour heavily, the raindrops crashing heavily against the glass panes disrupting the heavy silence in the room.
The weather was gloomy but the atmosphere in the room was gloomier than the weather outside, thick with the stench of blood and an aura of bloodlust. There, in the middle of the room, stood a tall man with greyish hairs showing his years of maturity and experience, sharp green predator–like eyes, and a beautifully carved face, wearing a tuxedo with hands in his pocket.
His aura was terrifying. Even though he stood casually against a table, he looked no less than a grim reaper.
In front of him was a man kneeling with his head hung low and surrounded by gunned men.The man kneeling was soaked in blood, covered in numerous bruises and wounds but all this did not hide his devilishly handsome features. Instead, it gave him an otherworldly kind of charm.
It seemed as if he was perfectly carved by god. He had a face which would make women go crazy to get a single glance from him. Although he was kneeling it could be seen he was a tall man, with violet eyes and a perfectly chiselled face. His originally pale white skin was soaked in blood, a part of which was his own.
The feeling of Hatred, agony, and a strong desire for revenge swirled in those sharp, mesmerising violet eyes. His beautiful jet-black hairs, as dark as the night itself, were messy. A few strands of his hair covered his eyes while a few stuck to his face were dyed in his blood.
The man slowly tilted his head to look at the man, with disgust flickering in his eyes and his signature smirk on his face, as if challenging and mocking the man who stood tall, even in his weakened state.
The middle-aged man got irritated. He clicked his tongue and spoke in a tone of disdain, "Still trying to look down on me huh. How bold of you!"His eyes glinted dangerously.
A huge bloodthirsty aura filled the room, which was suffocating. The loud sound of raindrops crashing against the glass panes, tearing through the silence only made the atmosphere in the room more tense. The roars of thunder did not cease and neither did the sharp winds blowing outside, adding to the ominous atmosphere. The air in the room weighed heavy with tension. The armed men did not even dare to breathe loudly but...
The man kneeling was still unaffected, he still had his head held high and that signature smirk on his lips.
He chuckled and sneered, "You are nothing but a coward!" He coughed out more blood but continued speaking," You are standing with your armed men when I am alone, kneeling down and badly in...injured." He coughed out more blood, "Mark my words, you will pay for everything that you did." Painful memories of what had conspired overnight began to swarm Tristen's head.
The middle-aged man, Vincent Collins, the head of the Collins family which was one of the two most powerful mafia families; felt the need to strangle the man in front of him to death. The man in front of him kneeling was Tristen Frost, the heir of the Frost family which was the other most powerful family.
At the thought of this Vincent felt proud of himself, after all, he murdered the whole Frost family, took over their business and became the most powerful Mafia family and right now the heir of the Frost family who is known for being an extremely ruthless and powerful person was kneeling in front of him albeit with arrogance.
But soon....very soon those eyes will lose all signs of life in them.
"How about I allow you to be buried with the rest of your family. Well only if you beg." says Vincent.
"I would never beg in front of a coward like you," says Tristen.
"Then die."
Vincent picked up his gun and aimed the gun straight at his forehead.
Tristen thinks, 'Revenge, Revenge....!is all that I want. Just one chance. I will bring this man, Vincent Collins and his whole empire into ruins. Everyone who was behind this condition of mine and my family would be burnt into ashes. One chance is all I need and then.... then... All hell would break loose.'
Vincent saw pure hatred, pain and desire for revenge in Tristen's eyes but he didn't care. He aimed the gun at his forehead and pulled the trigger.
The bullet went straight through his head and his body fell to the ground, lifeless. The violet eyes showed nothing but emptiness, devoid of any emotions and life. The violet eyes that seemed like a beautiful, never-ending galaxy showed nothing but blankness, a never-ending abyss!!