Dragons territory

author's pov

Hitting her back against the softest bed ever, Araya winced in pain as the pounding headache reminded her of her predicament. The plush fabric felt foreign and unsettling beneath her, a stark contrast to the fear coursing through her veins.

"You're going to stay here until the boss arrives," he barked, his voice loud and commanding, making her flinch and shrink away in fear. He stood tall, his broad shoulders squared, wearing a dark leather jacket that accentuated his muscular build. The way he crossed his arms over his chest radiated authority, and the tension in his jaw was palpable as he glared at her.

"You're a damn tempting little butterfly. Why don't I have a taste of her elegant body, Jack?" Gino smirked, his lustful gaze piercing through her like a dagger. He was a grotesque figure, with a scruffy beard that framed his face and a glint of something feral in his dark eyes. His skin was marred with tattoos that twisted around his arms and neck, each one telling a story of violence and depravity. Cold sweat trickled down Araya's face, and panic gripped her, her heart racing as she instinctively recoiled.

"Shut up, Gino, and pray he doesn't hear you," another man warned sharply, his voice low and gravelly. He was dressed in a fitted black shirt that clung to his toned arms, and his eyes darted nervously between Gino and Araya, betraying his own fear.

Why was she separated from the other girls? Where were they being taken? Why was she kept here? Who was their boss? Was she going to die? These questions battered her mind relentlessly as she let out a sorrowful moan, her body trembling with dread.

"BOSS!"

Their unified scream jolted her out of her thoughts, terror tightening its grip on her chest. Who was this boss? Was he cruel? Dangerous? Would he kill her? Tears brimmed in her eyes, but she forced them not to fall, biting her lip to suppress the sobs threatening to escape.

---

"Gino, did you try to taste my meat?"

He couldn't believe Gino's boldness. Did he forget what he was capable of? His eyes narrowed as he assessed the situation, his body tense with anticipation.

"S-s-sorry, boss... I... I..." Gino stammered, his voice quaking as he trembled, his pants darkening with fear. The sweat glistening on his forehead and the way he shifted his weight from one foot to the other betrayed his anxiety.

He grinned, taking a deliberate step toward Gino, his hand sliding into his pocket, the cool metal of his knife reassuring against his palm.

"I like it when you fear me, Gino. But I hate it when you're weak. You broke my rules, and now you'll have to choose how you die. I'll grant you the honor because you've followed me for a long time. You have two seconds to decide."

"N-n-no, boss... I..." Gino's voice faltered as he cowered before him, his fear feeding the boss's cruel amusement. The panic in Gino's eyes, the way his breath quickened as he realized the gravity of his situation, was almost entertaining.

The grin widened as he moved closer, pulling out a knife. Without hesitation, he plunged it into Gino's chest. Blood gushed out as Gino let out a low groan, writhing in pain, his face contorting in agony.

"B-boss... please... forgive me," Gino managed to whisper, his voice weak and pained, his eyes pleading.

"You're sorry?" the boss asked mockingly, tapping Gino's shoulder with a casual indifference that belied the violence of the moment.

"Yes, boss..." Gino's muffled voice barely escaped his lips, his body trembling as he fought to stay conscious.

The boss smirked. "Alright, I might let you go—but only if you kill Jack."

Gino's eyes widened in shock, disbelief washing over his features. Jack was the boss's right-hand man—his trusted bulldog, smart, calculative, and loyal to a fault. They had been partners in crime for years, and the thought of betraying him sent a shiver down Gino's spine.

The boss pulled out a gun and handed it to Gino, the weight of it heavy in his trembling hands. "At the count of three, I want you to kill Jack. If you don't, you die." He took out another gun and pointed it at Gino's forehead, his expression cold and unyielding.

"One... Two... Three!"

Gino pulled the trigger, but the shot missed. Jack had anticipated the move and dodged, his reflexes sharp and practiced. Gino dropped to his knees, shaking uncontrollably, the realization of his fate sealing his doom.

The boss stared down at him with cold disdain, his voice low and menacing. "Remember this, motherfucker: I hate losers who fear death. Dragons don't cower. And I especially hate those who try to touch what's mine."

Gino's lips quivered as he tried to plead, but the boss didn't hesitate. He pulled the trigger, and the bullet pierced Gino's forehead. Gino collapsed, lifeless, in a pool of his blood, the finality of his demise echoing in the silence.

---

A strangled cry escaped Araya's lips as she heard the gunshot. He had killed a man. Was she next? Her heart raced, pounding in her chest like a drum, the fear coursing through her like ice.

"Jack, get rid of the body and send someone to clean this place," the boss ordered, his voice cold and commanding, devoid of any emotion.

The door clicked shut, and Araya sobbed harder as she felt his footsteps approaching her. His presence loomed over her, and though the blindfold obscured her vision, she could feel his eyes burning into her, a predatory gaze that made her skin crawl.

"I guess you'll dry out all the tears in your body if you keep crying," he said, his tone mocking, a smirk playing on his lips.

Araya froze, weak and pale, curling into herself, her body trembling as she fought to suppress her fear. His words echoed in her head, each repetition striking fear deeper into her heart.

He leaned down, his warm hands brushing against her skin as he removed the blindfold. She gasped, startled by his deep ocean-blue eyes that seemed to glint with amusement, a dangerous spark dancing within them. His disarming smile—the same one she had foolishly been drawn to—only added to her dread.

"Please... don't hurt me," she whimpered, trembling under his touch as his fingers lingered on her face, tracing her cheek with a gentleness that felt utterly wrong.

"I won't... as long as you're a good girl," he murmured, his voice dripping with dark promises. His hands slid around her waist, pulling her close, and she felt the heat radiating from his body. His lips brushed against her neck, sending shivers down her spine as his fingers pushed the straps of her dress off her shoulders, leaving her exposed and vulnerable under his gaze.