attractive catastrophe ❧ hemmings au

❧ 01

❧ 01 | meet him.

His eyes opened suddenly, when the alarm went off, making a rooster sound. He growled, taking his alarm clock and throwing it against the wall, shattering it into a million pieces. He let out a throaty groan as he stood up from the bed, knowing that staying in bed won't make him any good. Today was a big day, he could feel it.

Today was going to be a fantastic day- is not everyday you see people asking for favors, not with the type of fame he has.

Have you ever requested something to a person who is often killing people?

He quickly dressed up, throwing on a hoodie, a pair of jeans and his Converse. He pulled the hood of his hoodie up and took a big breath before stepping outside his apartment. His eyes squinted when they met the light from the sun. He, being an insider, doesn't like the shiny outside.

He started jogging, puffs of cold breath coming out of his mouth everytime he exhaled. Even though it was currently 5 a.m. and there weren't that much people outside, he was careful to always keep his hood up. He didn't want to be noticed, he didn't want to be seen.

He got to his destination just in time: a dark alley between two brick buildings. It was just like the mafia movies: the floor was damp from the previous rain; drops leaking from the roof of the stores; the smell of the previous rain emerging from the pavement.

He knocked on the door three times, and knocked two times with his pinky finger. Almost immediately, a tall, build up answered the door, leading the boy without saying anything.

It wasn't often you saw a guy like him in places like this, nevermind, doing things like this. You wouldn't imagine someone with such a peaceful face could have a past filled with so much pain, war and sorrow. You would imagine he was a normal teenager, sleeping all day and partying all night, but it wasn't like that. He could never be normal, that's something he's known since forever. He's killed and tormented hundreds of people's bodies and minds. He's showed no remorse at all. He has a trace of the blood of hundreds in his hand, and he couldn't be more satisfied.

"Hemmings," a guy in another suit said; he looked really dangerous, though it didn't scare the boy on the slightest. "We've been waiting for you."

"I'm here now." He replied.

"Luke Hemmings, Luke Hemmings..." The man laughed, "I've heard so much about you, Luke."

"That's good, isn't it?" He smirked, sitting on the chair in front of the man's desk.

"Yeah. How old are you, Luke?" The man asked out of sudden. "People say you're still a teen."

"And I still am, sir," he answered, "but I cannot give away much information. What's this about, uh, Charls, right?" Luke leaned back in his chair, throwing his arms behind his head. Charles furrowed his eyebrows, so close to snap something sarcastic at Luke. He couldn't believe he was doing business with a teen- but again, he need that teen, and he needed it now. He loosened up his tie a little bit, coughing.

"People say you're good at stuff, Luke." Charles Devianno said, which made Luke raise an eyebrow. "And that kind of stuff are the stuff I need you to do now."

"Interesting..." Luke whispered, slowly leaning into the desk, "tell me more. What this about?"

"There's this man. We used to be colleges, but he betrayed me- he sold the family secrets to another group, the Cantinos, and I need you to take revenge."

"So you want me to kill this man?"

"Not exactly. I don't want you to kill Emilio Bizantino, but to kill his daughter, Konstantine."

Luke's eyebrows came down in a frown. It was missions like this he despised. He didn't have a soft spot when it came to killing girls, it was the same to him- but why did his daughter have to pay? She didn't have anything to do with it.

"Right," Luke muttered, "where are this Bizantino's?"

"I'll send you the address. Take your time, do whatever you'd like to complete the mission, just complete it, okay?" Devianno was a tough man, Luke knew it. He'd do anything to take people out of the way, no matter what. If he had to destroy a family, he would. If he had to destroy a home, he would. Whatever he had to destroy, he'd either destroy himself or send other people to complete the task.

"Okay." Luke nodded, his voice barely audible. "I'll do it."

"Good. I'll send you the description over the email. You can go."

Luke nodded, turning around and leaving Charles Devianno's office with only one thing in mind: to kill Konstantine Bizantino.