𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐁𝐲 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 [𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐁𝐲] 💗

Chapter 13

Moments later,

As Tyler entered the room that his Dad instructed the clients would be in, he found it empty. I guess they're late, he thought as he seated himself. His mood swung low as his eyes stared at the ground.

Being alone was dangerous, for his mind wandered off to his visit earlier in the cemetery. After his father left, Tyler had sat down in front of the gravestone as if he's facing Xavier himself.

"Why is it that I feel dead when you're the one buried?" Tyler cried, covering his eyes while crying. "It's been so long... so long, Xavier... I'm so sorry. I've been a pússy."

Tyler gently touched the stone, feeling it cold and smooth, just like what Xavier's personality.

"Vincent kept wearing white. Consistently mourning over you. You two were childhood friends, right? At least Vincent was consistent. I don't know about me. You'd probably be disappointed." Tyler sniffed. "Ryland has a boyfriend now. Who knew he also has a thing for men. You'd probably be proud of him, they're happy together, and hopefully, Ryland doesn't die on him."

Teardrops landed on the stone beside his hand. "I fúcking miss you so much you emo bástard. It's been too long and it still hurts!"

It still hurts. Back in the present, Tyler was snapped off his daydream by a crash at the door. He stood up, thinking it was probably the clients. So he fixed his appearance and tapped his eyes awake. But no one came into the room.

"Hello?" Tyler stepped towards the door cautiously. His heart was pumping because that crash was loud and scary. He has a bad feeling about this.

When he came in view of the door, he stepped back in shock when it was wide open, and he can see a bodyguard in the hallways with a hole in his head.

"Oh my God," covering his mouth, his legs were paralyzed. Bullet wounds... dead body... blood... he knew this scene all too well five years ago. His stomach churned, and he turned over and gagged air.

"Fúck," whoever did this is probably outside. Should I go out? They're probably inside this room since the door's wide open.

Yet before he can decide on leaving the room, a suited and masked man entered with a huge rifle. He immediately pointed at Tyler and shot him.

"Ahh!" Tyler had dodged the headshot and got hit on the shoulder. "Wait, wait! Stop! Please! Don't--" his shoulders stung so bad that he had trouble breathing with a bullet in his flesh.

The man, still holding the rifle up terrifyingly, took a good look at the 24-year-old Tyler. A good, deep, long look at the bloodied aristocrat.

I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die... Tyler clamped his eyes shut.

Yet nothing happened. He opened his eyes to see the man lowering his gun ever so slowly. Only then did Tyler get a good look at the man. Tall, wearing a gas mask. Head to toe, he looks like a SWAT member that's definitely not a SWAT member. Whatever he is, Tyler is scared of him shítless.

Seconds of staring into that gas mask, it became slightly transparent because of the light from the window. Tyler's heartbeat grew increasingly loud. Not because he's probably going to die, but those eyes behind that green-tinted mask... it made him lose awareness of his impending death.

That death is confirmed when more men in suits and gas masks entered the room. I'm gonna die. Tyler cursed, trying to sit up hut moving his arm just makes him scream. The bullet lodged in there is too deep. What are they doing here? They came to kill me, or if they came for anything else, they're still going to kill me.

Suddenly, they spoke in a language Tyler can't understand but is familiar with. German; the language that brought back terrible memories.

"It's not him," says the first man who shot Tyler.

"Kill him then," replied another one. The wounded boy cannot understand German, so all he can currently do is pray and search for a phone that he can possibly reach.

The first man stepped towards Tyler, which only make him scurry back until he hits the window sill."Schliemann wants him alive. But not now."

Kneeling down on Tyler, he took a cloth from the pocket of his belt and pressed it into the boy's wound, making Tyler scream out from the pressure. "Stop! Stop it!"

"You'll bleed out," the man emotionlessly said with a clear non-accented English. It was at that moment, Tyler had calmed down. But not his heart, no. His heart was erratic. His emotions also were after hearing the first man's voice.

"What are you doing, Savvi?" Another man, tall and thin in his suit, suddenly took his mask off. Tyler watched as his curly hair and hollowed-out eyes held dreadful anger in them. "Kill him! We kill all the witnesses! Schliemann hasn't cared about Tyler Wyner since ever."

"Patience, Orion. We never do something without orders. You may be one to not follow them but it's six of us against you."

All the other men murmured, probably in agreement.

"Orders my motherbítching chickenáss, he is a witness!" The man who exposed his face held a gun out to Tyler, which the boy flinches visibly to.

Yet the first man who tended Tyler's wounds stood up and tried reasoning. "Orders was to not hurt Tyler Wyner. It may be five years ago, but Schliemann never said anything to expire that command."

Somehow, the man with the visible face cursed a string of German words and left the room. The others stood patiently, waiting for the first man's orders which seemed to be the leader.

Tyler is still dumbfounded as the first man walked towards the group. "Scout for the target. Do not be spotted by guests. Move out!"

They all exit, but the first man was the last to leave. He stared at Tyler before closing the door, leaving the boy with a bullet wound in the room.