Let the fun begin.
***
“Fuck,” Danny muttered, eyeing him warily.
He had good reason.
There was a rage and force surrounding him, filling him up.
One that wouldn’t be contained.
Franklin had given them what they needed, or more aptly what he knew. The stupid fucker hadn’t met the man that had paid him. He had just been after the cash.
The destruction called to him.
The black tendrils slithered along the floor like a snake, reaching out for him.
He wasn’t scared that it would consume him.
He was going to relish them.
“So someone is hunting you,” Dominic snarled, and Rick and Danny backed away slightly.
Mark didn’t budge.
The black cloud swirling in his head was overtaking him.
Some motherfucker had put out a hit on his little bird.
It was enough to drive him mad.
The man on the ground whimpered again, holding his arm to his chest.
He leaned down, picking up the gas can at his feet.
Taking a step forward, he stomped his boot on the fucker’s chest, the crack of his ribs so loud that even Dominic winced.
Letting the sound of Franklin’s cries soothe the rage in his veins.
Then with a sinister smirk, he tilted the can. Letting the gas flow over the edge and splash over the fucker’s face.
Franklin flailed, coughing as some of the gas got in his mouth, and Mark chuckled.
“Mark?” Rick questioned warily, taking a step forward, but Dominic reached out and stopped him.
He dropped the can to the ground and reached in his pocket, pulling out a lighter.
Looking up as he flicked the lighter, he caught Rick’s eyes, watched with pleasure as a surprised look came over all three of the men’s faces.
“You don’t fuck with what’s mine,” he said.
The flick of the lighter was loud, the flames reflecting in the terrified eyes of the man on the floor.
“Burn in hell motherfucker.” He let the lighter fall.
He smiled, the echoing of the dying screams behind him the last thing that sounded before the click of the door shut behind him.
