Prykus

They call me a hero. They call me a villain. But I never cared for names.

Damien walks a razor’s edge between justice and chaos. In a city drowning in corruption and shadows, he is neither a savior nor a destroyer — but something in between.

Haunted by a past he can't escape and debts he can't repay, Damien takes on the jobs no one else dares to touch — dismantling syndicates, hunting killers, and exposing dark conspiracies that rot the city from the inside out. But every deal he makes, every life he takes, drags him further down a path he can't return from.

When a mysterious organization emerges from the depths — more dangerous and connected than anything he's faced — Damien is forced to confront the ultimate question: how far will he go to fight monsters without becoming one himself?

The Damned Path: Chronicles of Damien

The city stretched below us, a glittering web of lights and shadows. But I wasn't admiring the view. I was counting the number of men pouring out of those black SUVs.

Ghost was already moving, checking his magazine. "They brought a damn army."

"They think we're trapped," I said.

We had two choices—fight or flee. But fleeing wasn't an option anymore.

I glanced at the rusted fire escape running down the side of the building. "Think you can make it down before they spot us?"

Ghost smirked. "I could do it blindfolded."

The first gunshot cracked through the air before we even moved. A sniper.

We dropped flat as the bullet slammed into the rooftop ledge.

"Damn it," Ghost hissed. "They're serious."

A voice crackled through the air, amplified by a megaphone from below.

"Damien Locke! We know you're up there! Come down now, and maybe we won't kill you."

Kross's men. They sounded smug, like they had already won.

I pulled my gun, checking my last clip. Seven bullets left. Not enough.

Ghost pulled out a flashbang. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

I nodded. "Blind them. Then we drop down."

He pulled the pin and lobbed it over the ledge.

The rooftop lit up in a violent flash, white light burning through the night.

We leaped over the edge, landing on the fire escape. Metal groaned under our weight as we descended fast, skipping steps, moving like our lives depended on it—because they did.

Bullets whizzed past. They had recovered fast.

Ghost hit the bottom first, rolling onto the pavement. I followed, just as a thug rounded the alley with a shotgun.

I slammed into him, driving my elbow into his throat. He gagged, but I didn't stop, twisting the shotgun from his grip and flipping it in my hands.

One shot, straight to his chest. He dropped.

We didn't stop running until we were four blocks away. By then, sirens were howling from every direction. The city had come alive, but for the wrong reasons.

Ghost wiped sweat from his brow. "We need a new plan. Kross isn't playing games anymore."

"He never was," I muttered. "And neither are we."

My mind was already spinning. This wasn't just a hit. Kross wanted to send a message.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Kai.

Kai exhaled. "I found it. Kross's real headquarters."

Ghost raised an eyebrow. "I thought we hit it already."

"No," Kai said. "That was just a front. The real one? It's bigger. And it's where he is."

A slow smile spread across my face.

"This ends soon," I said. "One way or another."

And this time, I was making sure Kross paid the blood price.

To Be Continued…

Chapter 41: The Blood Price