Alex had always thought of his town as quiet, ordinary, a place where life followed the predictable rhythm of sunrise and church bells. He never imagined that all the safety he had known could crumble in a single night, leaving him gasping in a world that suddenly felt alien and dangerous. The evening had begun like any other, the orange glow of street lamps casting soft halos over the cobblestone streets, and his fathers had begun laughing in their workshop like they did everytime. Alex had been by thier side, carrying the small tray of tea he had brewed, unaware that the night would become a memory burned into his chest forever. .
Then came the first sound that tore through their calm—the roar of engines and shouting, sharp and cruel, a discordant symphony that carried death before its presence was even fully registered.
Suddenly, Men in black masks surged through the streets, their guns gleaming under the dim light they could see them through the window of their workshop.
The wooden door crashed as one of the masked men came in ... instantly they both geared into action and they had moved instinctively to shield him, a command in thier eyes even without words.
They both held hands shielding him and the masked man let out a huge cackle, the sound ripped through the mask.
"Are you both a couple or something?" He said as he waved the gun around, they flinched mildly with every wave.
"Leave our son alone he hasn't done anything, we haven't done anything!" One of his fathers, a broad silver haired tall man said, his voice was deep and intimidating but what use was that when in the presence of a gun.
"Please spare us" his other father said, brown haired, thinner and shorter than his other father. The dynamic was obvious from the onset.
The man had stopped laughing and for a moment everything seemed to be quiet even in the midst of the chaos brickering outside.
"You know...you both are a shame to humanity" he finally said and instantly everyone tensed up, this one was homophobic and The three knew the outcome of it all even before it would happen.
"Please spare us" His brown haired father said but it was too late now. The black masked man pointed the gun at them.
"Bye homos" he jested and then two bangs rang in the air, it was so sudden...the world tilted violently as glass shattered and the scent of smoke and gunpowder filled Alex's nostrils, cutting through the air like a knife. He froze, heart hammering, unable to understand why this was happening, why the people who had always lived quietly among them were now brought to such ferocity. His father's voice rang out, low and protective, urging him to hide, to stay silent, and in that moment Alex obeyed with every fiber of his trembling body, pressing himself into the corner of the workshop, gripping the rough edge of a workbench so tightly that his knuckles whitened.
And then he saw it—the movement that would haunt him forever—his two fathers falling to the ground, a crimson bloom spreading across thier chest like fire consuming a forest. Alex's knees buckled and a groan tore from his throat, muffled against the floor, as the reality sank in. The warmth of his parents presence, the protection he had always relied on, was gone, ripped away in the blink of an eye. The men in black did not pause; they grabbed Alex before he could even react, their hands firm and cold against his arms, his face hidden behind masks that made him feel less than human, more like a shadow with deadly intent.
He dragged him through the streets, ignoring his protests and tears, and the sounds of his own sobs were swallowed by the chaos around him. His mind raced, trying to remember any escape, any hiding place, but there was none. Every instinct screamed to run, to fight, but his body felt paralyzed under the weight of fear. He glanced over his shoulder once, desperate, and saw his parents lying motionless in the doorless work shop, the life that had always been his anchor now gone, and a shudder ripped through him. He cried openly then, not caring if they heard, the sound raw and ragged, filled with grief so deep it felt like it might hollow him from the inside.
"They said no hostages" one of the men who was very much identical to the other, same black wear and mask said intercepting his napper who paused momentarily.
"I know but i have a feeling that the boss will like this one"
"Which one huh?"
"Well we have to see"
"You are making a big gamble number 10" The other said and with that the drag continued, he was hurled up and thrown into a truck car.
"Where are you taking me" he wailed, sobbing as he shuddered violently from the experience.
"To the Rodrigo estate my boy" the black masked man said and Alex immediately silenced out of terror. Not the Rodrigos he thought...the Rodrigos were literally the most brutal and gruesome crime personalities in the City. Everyone knows of thier escapades...thier killings, thier gruesome tragic crimes ...And the worst part? They left unchecked so that meant the law was afraid of them too. And so when he took one critical look at the town and saw the dead bodies of people he once knew laying in the pool of thier own blood in different spots around the town he knew one thing ...they were never going to get justice, not anyone not even his parents. He began crying again this time in grief of everyone in the little town.