The tyrant mafia's weakness

Untitled : Into the dark woods

Chapter 2:

The freezing night air bit into Marcus’s lungs as he ran, but the burning adrenaline in his veins kept him moving. The forest was thick, a chaotic maze of tangled thorns and towering trees that seemed to actively fight against his escape. Without a flashlight or shoes meant for the rough terrain, he stumbled constantly. Sharp twigs sliced through the thin fabric of his socks, and hidden roots caught his ankles, sending him crashing hard into the freezing mud. Every time he fell, the image of the gunshot inside the office flashed behind his eyelids, forcing him back to his feet. He couldn't stop. He was terrified the masked men would follow the sound of his snapped branches.As the hours crawled by, the adrenaline began to fade, replaced by a deep, hollow exhaustion. The woods were deafeningly quiet, filled only with the sound of his own ragged breathing and the terrifying, distant howling of the wind. The darkness was absolute. He had never been alone in the dark like this before. He was a child of wealth, accustomed to heated rooms and security guards, but now, he was entirely at the mercy of the elements. He walked until his legs turned to lead, his hands scraped raw from using tree trunks to steady himself in the blackness.Just as the first pale light of dawn began to bleed through the canopy, the dense trees finally started to thin out. Marcus pushed past a heavy thicket of brambles, his eyes blinking against the sudden openness.Down below the ridge, cutting through the morning fog, were the dim yellow glow of streetlights.He had reached the edge of a highway. Beyond the asphalt, the dark shapes of distant buildings and commercial shop signs began to appear against the gray sky. Relief washed over him, but it was quickly replaced by a new, sharper kind of fear. He was safe from the woods, but he was completely alone in a world he didn't know.Entering the city limits was like stepping into an entirely different war zone. Marcus quickly realized that being a homeless, silent child made him completely invisible to the bustling crowds. The first few days were a blur of cold concrete and crushing hunger. He learned to avoid the main sidewalks during the day because store owners would shout at him to move along if he sat near their entrances for too long. Instead, he forced himself into the narrow, damp alleyways behind the bustling rows of restaurants and shops.Survival became a matter of barely scraping by on whatever the city threw away. Hunger wasn't just a stomach ache; it became a heavy, dizzying fog that made it hard for him to think. On his third day, the sheer desperation broke whatever pride he had left. He stood in the shadows behind a local bakery, waiting until the kitchen staff threw out the morning waste. The moment the heavy metal lid of the dumpster slammed shut and the employees went back inside, Marcus dragged his trembling body over.His small fingers gripped the dirty, rusted rim of the bin as he hauled himself up to look inside. Shivering, he reached his hand past wet garbage and discarded wrappers until his fingers closed around a stale, half-eaten loaf of bread. It was hard as rock and covered in soot, but he dragged it back into the shadows of the alley, tearing into it like a wild animal. He kept his eyes locked on the mouth of the alley the entire time, his shoulders tense, terrified that someone would notice him and take his only meal away. he felt alone and helpless he didn't know where to go and who to rely on.

he was sure he had wandered far from home.

he didn't know if he would ever return there

he dragged his battered body to a near by fountain using his hand to take mouthfuls of water. that was the only luxury he could afford right now. after having his fill he went to a nearby abandoned bench to rest.