B 01: Basic writing prompt
Awards: 1 white feather per 200 words
THE END OF AN ERA
Lantos stood to the right of Cael, his guard at an all-time high. His ears were flicking in all directions, his eyes doing the same, scanning and skipping across every corner, watching for any sign of danger. He remained vigilant, stiff and careful, aware of the dangers this meeting carried. Kreig on the other side of Cael appeared to be lax despite the tension in his arms giving his apprehensions away. Cael, however, was sat comfortably across from the man who threatened his safety.
The leader was the epitome of charm despite the dusty warehouse, tendrils of light barely passing into the blacked-out windows, further barred by haphazardly nailed wooden boards. They were sat on cheap metal chairs, a similarly cheap metal table laid out between them. Yet somehow, with Cael's demeanour, the furniture seemed to be of quality. A light smile graced itself on Cael's lips, contrasting that of the ugly scowl on his enemy's face. A dull lamp hung above them, swinging lightly despite the lack of a breeze, scarcely illuminating the individuals under it.
"This war of ours," Cael began, then with smugness, he rested his chin atop clasped fingers, elbows on the table before them, "or rather, this worthless one-way battle you stubbornly fight."
The other man, Keelo, growled, baring fangs. Lantos' hand was immediately on his pistol's holster, his expression turning into a twisted warning. At the motion, the little thing cowered back, returning to his initial scowl. Cael's glee distinctly grew, eyes sparkling with delight. Even the bodyguards' own reach for their weapons were unable to faze the leader of the Famiglia, who merely glanced at them, their expressions demanding respect. He brushed them off with a withheld chuckle, as though they were nothing more than children playing pretend with their little foam guns.
"Why not stop this now, while you're still able to? We all know how this will end."
Silence.
"How many years has it been, Keelo? And how many losses have you racked up against my family? Why do you even still bother? Your efforts are meaningless. You've never been able to stand up to us. You never will. Every time, it ends in bloodshed - and as always, your blood and your little playgroup's will flood these streets. Not ours. It will be the blood of your own playmates staining your hands."
Lantos blinked several times, taken aback. For a moment, his muscles went slack in his shock. He turned his attention to their leader, who continued to grin - but his grin was wicked and mocking. A grin he'd never seen from the man he respected with his entire being. He felt numb for a moment; the leader had never been so brutal as to threaten death upon his rivals. Oftentimes, Cael would butter his rivals up, make them feel good about themselves, as though they were on even playing fields despite the overwhelming hold the Famiglia had over the entire city, before he would ever-so-gently beat them down into submission through his manipulation.
He'd never imagined - never thought for a second in his life, that Cael could be so... cruel.
But perhaps he could understand Cael's frustrations. His change in tactics. Cael had used the same methods with Keelo for years - and despite repeatedly doing so, and despite the variations and nudges, the man had never changed his ways. Never stopped for even a single moment. Perhaps, Cael was attempting something different for once, Lantos reasoned with himself with an internal nod.
"I have many who are more than capable to take my place. If I were to die today, I would have no worries - but you will. You will regret thinking this would be the end."
Lantos stilled.
He had to glance at Kreig, hoping he had heard wrongly. That maybe, he'd just been so distracted with eyeballing the corners, his ears began playing tricks. But there was the same stricken surprise on Kreig's face, his lax posture now replaced with one on high alert. Lantos swallowed, heart beating wildly in his chest, blood pumping thunderously in his ears. Breathing seemed to become difficult, his airways blocked by a phantom conjured by his mind. A chill crawled up his spine; his fur stood on end in the fear that grew. His eyes darted about hastier, and with each passing moment, the air seemed to get thinner.
Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.
He gripped his gun tighter, ready to whip it out at any moment.
"Look at my capos," Cael continued. His grin had fallen to a solemn sobriety, gaze hardened to follow. "Do you see how loyal they are to me? Did your men not tell you how they hadn't managed to assassinate them despite a numbers and initiative advantage from an ambush?"
A rustle behind them.
"My brother Raon, I was always aware of the things he'd done behind my back. Are you?"
Lantos spun on his heel, his pistol whipped free from its holster. He didn't even need a second to aim.
"Even if I were to die," Cael snarled, "it would be the end for you."
The deafening sound of gunshots rung in the air. Bodies dropped; Lantos trusted and knew Kreig well enough to know the other had dropped the bodyguards before more gunfire could have been set off. Silence followed. The sound of his breaths were louder than anything. He could hardly feel the ache of lead lodged in his shoulder. His hands trembled. His arms went slack. They fell to his side. His eyes were wide, unblinking, and he dared not look behind him. Instead, he fell to his knees, buried his face into his hands in silent horror. Tears stung in his eyes, spilling forth with no remorse.
Just barely, he could hear Kreig crying out beside him in terror. Crying for their leader to awake, to stop with his horrid games. Begging, please please please. Words reducing themselves to unintelligible, frantic babbling. But all Lantos could hear was a distant sound despite the closeness of the source.
He was too late. He should've been ready.
It was his fault.
1,020/200 words - B 01 x5
TOTAL: 5 white feathers
UNUSED