A villain's secret

Chapter 10: Cornered

Nox POV
Present day

(This probably needs a violence warning for anyone reading this, so you've been warned!) ⚠️⛔️⚠️⛔️⚠️⛔️⚠️

Nox traipsed through the piss soaked streets of the third ring town, headed in the direction of his target's home. He'd picked up all the information he needed from a few loose lipped folks, hardly able to withstand a scratch of Nox's blades before spilling every detail of the Carello's.

They were a quiet couple, having been evicted from their home in the second ring after going bankrupt paying off the debts of their deceased son. This was obviously their final payment.

Over the past few nights Nox had been able to dull the ache in his chest but soon he would need to bring Lillian more supplies. And the pain would start all over again.

If only she didn't eat so damn much.

Her appetite would be the death of him, having to come and go so often. The urge to kill her and be done with it was a constant strain on his mind, but those thoughts tugged in the opposite direction of other feelings that plagued him, creating a persistent headache.

Nox's sigh huffed in a cloud before his mask, like a dragon's breath against the night's chill. His hands ran along the wall beside him, feeling the dip and bump of every doorway as he counted the houses between each corner and alleyway. Three turns, twenty one doors, two dead ends. It had already taken most of the night trying to find the house among the maze of wood and stone. And with his mind so unfocused, the lack of any distractions in the streets that could help pull him away from the ache in his head was becoming disturbing. Not a single person. No drunk fights bursting through tavern doors leading a riled crowd through the quiet town. Not even the patter of rodents feet in the roads.

His brows furrowed at the strangeness of the situation, not only the eerie silence but also the layout of the street he was in. He stilled, taking in his surroundings more carefully. The way the streets were leading him...

Nox's eyes flicked to his left, then to the end of the street in front of him shrouded in a cloudy darkness without the yellow illumination of any street lamps.

It made for a difficult escape. The roofs would be the only way for a person to get away.

The Carello's lived on the first floor of a five story wooden building at the end of the long narrow alleyway. And to climb the front of the building would leave a person completely exposed for the time it took to get to the top. The only other option was worse. Running back into the street leaving your back to any enemies for too long.

For most reapers this would be unworthy of a second thought. The setup was perfect for an easy hunt. Even if a target slipped away there would be no escaping, they would be terminated before they could reach the only turning in the street that wasn't a dead end.

But Nox wasn't most reapers. And Nox had a lot of enemies. Enemies that would drool at the mouth for a chance to have the Grimm cornered in a maze of dead ends and five story buildings. His father being at the top of the list.

A creeping sense of anticipation filled his body, his heart rate slowing to a deadly beat as Nox finally found relief from the mess in his pounding head.

A smile snaked across his lips as he straightened to his full height and left the shadows of the wall.

An ambush was exactly what he needed, it would make for the perfect escape from the feelings he'd been running away from for the last few days. With his heart pumping louder in his ears, beating in time with the hard thud of his boots against the ground, he couldn't stop the smile from consuming his whole face under the mask. He wanted to inhale the sweet nights air and fill his lungs until they burst, he wanted to spread his arms wide like a mad man to welcome the impending violence, but his chest was too tight with excitement, the invisible pressure crushing him in a familiar embrace. Tremors racked his body like they were trying to tear him apart at the hinges, leaving him paralysed to do anything but march onwards, closer and closer to the door now visible in front of him.