The Return Of The Mafia Lord

002

He was fucked up! How could something like this happen to him? He was the last person that deserves to be framed like that!

As his headache began to subside, David's instincts kicked in. He knew he had to find the gun and get rid of it. His fingerprints were on it, and he couldn't afford to leave it behind when he found it,he kept it at the back of trouser. He quickly scanned the area and spotted the bathroom. He rushed in, grabbed a washcloth, and filled a bowl with water.

With a sense of urgency, David began to wipe down every surface he had touched in the house. He methodically cleaned the areas where he had left his mark, trying to erase any evidence of his presence else he would be seen as a suspect. He searched around the house until he was able to find a nose mask. When he was sure everything was clean without his print,he picked up the package he was supposed to deliver,used his nose mask and rushed out of the house with his bloodstained shirt. But he didn't care,he just needed to be away from there as far as possible.

“I didn't do anything” he told himself to get more courage.

As David emerged from the house, he was met with a scene of suspicion and fear. The neighbors, who had been going about their day, stopped in their tracks and pointed fingers at him. Their eyes widened in horror as they took in the sight of his bloodstained shirt.

"What's wrong with him?" one of the neighbors whispered, her voice trembling with fear. "Why is he covered in blood?"

“What did he do to the family?”

The neighbors kept a safe distance, their eyes fixed on David with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. Some of them quickly pulled out their phones and began to dial the police, their fingers moving swiftly over the keypad.

He hadn't driven his scooter far from the house, when David heard the sound of police cars chasing after him, he knew he was in grave danger.

“Plate number SMK 384G, stop your scooter immediately!”The police officers' voices echoed through the megaphone, ordering him to stop his scooter, but David refused.

He knew that if he stopped, he would be arrested and charged with the murder. But how could he prove his innocence that he was just a wretched delivery man that had nothing to do with the murder? Where was the evidence? The person who had framed him would have done a meticulous job of making it look like he was the culprit. If he ever gets arrested,he has no one to help him out,he would end up rotting in jail for a crime he didn't commit.

“I can't get arrested!” He said to himself. Not after the sufferings he has endured his life, ending up in jail would mean he would never have a breakthrough.

David gripped the handlebars of his scooter tightly. He swerved through traffic, ignoring the angry honks and shouted curses. The police were closing in and he knew he had to get off the main road. His small scooter was no match for their patrol cars.

As the chase moved from the main highway to a residential street, Xavier saw his chance. An open field, dense with trees and overgrown with wild brush, stretched to his right. Without a second thought, he veered off the road and hit the gas. The scooter bucked beneath him as it tore through the tall grass before the engine finally sputtered and died. He abandoned the vehicle and didn't look back.

He ran, the forest floor filled with mud and fallen leaves. The sounds of the chase changed, the sirens fading to be replaced by the snapping of twigs and the heavy thud of boots behind him. A shot rang out, and a tree branch just inches from his head splintered into woodchips. They weren't trying to catch him, they were now actively trying to kill him.

He reached for the gun in his waistband, hoping to shield himself with it. He ducked behind a thick oak tree and fired back. He moved from tree to tree,as he kept firing back at them.

"Stop it already!" a voice boomed from a megaphone, distorted and hollow. "There's no way out for you! We have you surrounded!"

"I'm innocent!" David screamed back as his eyes became watery. What kind of bad luck does he even have?

A burst of laughter echoed from the megaphone. "Innocent? Do you think we're here for your innocence?" The voice was filled with a chilling amusement. "We're here to kill you, Xavier."

His blood ran cold. That name wasn't his name. He peeked from behind the tree, his gaze searching the shadows. It wasn't the police. The figures in the woods were dressed in black tactical gear, not police uniforms. “I think you have the wrong person!” He yelled back at them “I'm David not Xavier”

"Now you are denying yourself?” The person scoffed, “Did you enjoy your three years of silence?" the voice asked again, this time without the megaphone. It was closer now, a sinister whisper carried by the wind.

“Who the fuck are you? I don't even know you, please leave me alone!” David was now panting in fear.

"I'm disappointed you don't remember me. I thought I would always be remembered, especially with my last gift to you. How can you forget a powerful man like me, called Gabriele?"

The voice was getting closer. David knew he couldn't stay hidden forever. His chance of escape was thin, and he was cornered. He stepped out from behind the tree, his hands raised in surrender, the gun hanging uselessly at his side. Immediately, a dozen flashlights blinded him, and the glint of multiple gun barrels fixed on him.

"Please," he pleaded, his voice cracking. "I'm just a delivery man. I didn't kill anyone in that house. I was framed. Someone hit me in the back of my head! That must have been the killer."

The figure in the center of the group, a man with a cold, cruel smirk, lowered his gun. "Are you sick in the head?" Gabriele asked, his voice dripping with condescending amusement. "Or have you truly lost your memories?"

"Do you people know me?” He raised an eyebrow. “Who am I?” He asked.

The man's smirk widened. "Unfortunately, I'm not here to lecture you about your life." He raised his gun again, his eyes as cold as a grave. "Start running, Xavier. Run as fast as you can. We're here to kill you."

The threat was real and the seriousness etched on their faces screamed at David to run for his life. David turned and ran, a surge of adrenaline pushing him forward. He could hear their laughter behind him, a mocking symphony as they fired. Bullets whizzed past his head, tearing through the air, hitting the trees with sickening thuds. He wasn't just running, he was fighting for his life.

"Please, Universe," he pleaded in his mind, "don't let me die yet. I haven't even lived."

As he tore through the thicket, he saw a woman standing near a small, rocky clearing. She was looking around, her eyes wide with fear, disoriented by the chaos of the gunshots. "Call the police!" he screamed, but she didn't seem to hear him over the din of the gunfire and his own ragged breathing.

Just as he was about to reach her, a searing pain exploded in his shoulder. He cried out as the force of the shot spun him around and sent him lunging forward. He slammed into the woman and they both went down.

"It's a fucking cliff!" the woman screamed in a horrified shriek as they fell into the churning darkness of the ocean below.

The shooting continued as Gabriele and his men kept shooting into the ocean.

“I'm sure he is dead now,boss,” one of his men said.

“Not until I see his fucking dead body,” Gabriele said with his teeth clenched.