Novel & Cerita Danger Street

Trevor slapped the table angrily. “Where did they take the others?” I asked. “Probably to one of their clubhouses in town.” The prospect replied. The Dead Revenants were another motorcycle club, and we're our sworn rivals. Dead man's alley was their territory, and they guarded it carefully. It was quite unfortunate that my prospects would go riding through at night. “Get him out of here.” I nudged my head at the doorman. “Get him patched up.” “You heard the boss.” Trevor chirped in immediately. “Come on, get this riffraff out of here. You're staining the rug!”

Morvane wasn’t a safe city for people to associate with strangers. After a few minutes, the streets fell quiet. She was standing by a corner of the road, still thinking about a way out, when a group of men moved past her, tall and broad-shoulders, their presence exuding danger. Cold shivers ran down her spine. It wasn’t safe for her to stay there, on the streets. Her mind raced, searching for someone she could call. Roselyn, her best friend from way back, instantly surfaced in her thoughts, but she doubted whether she still remembered her after many years of silence on her part.

There was nothing left to say, not with the body cooling on the ground and the same unanswered question hanging in the air it always did after encounters like this one: *who is he, really? --- Across the city, in a part of it that couldn't have felt further removed from abandoned factories and electric chairs, the night pulsed with music and neon light. The club shimmered in shades of violet and pink, glass railings catching the glow of a hundred shifting lights as bodies moved and laughter spilled out over the bass. "*drags Van*" Lance Ivory tugged his best friend along by the sleeve, grinning. "Come on, it'll be fun." "*getting dragged* Are you sure?" Van asked, clearly less convinced.

Kian shouted as soon as we entered, there was a storm in his eyes, “You weren’t supposed to hurt our Drea and you did!” It was then I realised just how botched my attempt at hiding the bruise on my forehead and even more at the small stitches. “Kian it wasn’t-“ But he was immediately distracted by a certain famous mode, “Hello there handsome,” Valerin’s smooth voice bubbled through the café. And Kian almost died, “One coffee as black as that sonovabitch’s heart.” “Coming right up,” Kians gaze snapped to me, “He does anything and I cannot be held responsible for what hot liquids happen to fall in his direction,” I laughed lightly.

Together, we stepped onto the desolate streets, our footsteps swallowed by the decaying asphalt beneath us. Hell's Gaze, a name that sent shivers down the spines of average citizens, was an embodiment of destitution and despair. The houses stood like skeletal remains, their crumbling facades a reflection of the souls that inhabited them. Stray dogs scavenged for morsels among the debris that littered the streets, their eyes gleaming with a hunger that mirrored the desperation of the community.

The other two slumped in their seats, their heads lolling and their blood hitting the floor in a steady drip, drip. Several of their limbs bent at unnatural angles. “You talk too much.” Brax spat out a mouthful of dark red liquid. Brax Miller. Ex-con with a mile-long rap sheet, balls of steel, and a brain the size of a walnut. I smiled, then hit him again. His head snapped back, and a pained groan filled the air. My bruised knuckles stung. The room jokingly dubbed the Holding Cell in my private security headquarters smelled like copper, sweat, and the thick, cloying scent of fear.

he shrugs again and I ignore the pang in my throat. "Anyway," he carries on, " your Axel did something a few weeks ago that send the gang into a chaos. He killed Greyson, I'm sure he told you about that. Well, if you kill a gang's leader, you kind of kill the gang with it because now it's all gone to shit and none of us are making much money anymore, what's worse, we've recieved death threaths from everywhere because of the unfinished business. People tend to get lethal when it's about the money." he emphasizes way too many words. He sighs, throwing his arms in the air and then letting them fall to his sides, making him look even crazier.

His blood was running all the way from his shoulder down to my arm and the floor, but none of us moved. After all, this addiction, we both knew, was dangerous. In fact, we were more addicted to the danger.

walking down The Strip of The Fringe. Not that it deterred several of the men who she crossed paths with on her cold walk to The Rabbit Hole. As even more people had crawled out from the shadows on this Christmas Morning. They filled the dirty alleys and narrow sidewalks. Drunk, high, horny, desperate, and often a combination of those things, not that it mattered. None of them had anything Amber wanted or needed anymore.

Grace's Pov “The cops are on their way, let's go,” I heard, and their footsteps started to fade away. After waiting for some minutes and hearing nothing, I released a breath and looked down at the stranger. What did he do to have those men after him? I looked at his features closely and took note of his pink lips, sharp jawline, which looked like it would cut me if I touched it, and I was tempted to. My eyes fell on his wound on his lower abdomen, which was bleeding, and I pressed hard on it to stop the bleeding.