"If you prick us, do we not bleed? If
you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, do we not revenge? If we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you in that."

- William Shakespeare

HE WAS stood in front of her. 

She could recognise him despite the darkness of the room, the spinning of her head and the blur of her eyes. Those curls – those dark tendrils, hanging over his face; cheekbones that protruded out from either side and that lean, small manner of his, still built like a young boy. He had always been skinny, but as Iris focussed on his stance, she noticed how terrifyingly malnourished he was – so much so that she was afraid he would snap – his fingers gripping each other like tangled twigs from a tree, his eyes hollow and lost beneath the sharpness of his skull.

"Sniper." She sat up slowly, peeling her head off the concrete ground. It was freezing cold, riddled with stains of dirt and grime. Apart from Sniper's presence, she was unable to orientate herself with her surroundings – muddled from a lack of light: there was merely a torch hanging above that shone onto Sniper, but it left areas of the room still hidden away. "What are you doing here?"

Her voice was so quiet she was afraid he hadn't heard her – though his eyes that fell on hers seemed to suggest otherwise. She watched as his expression hardened, his body turning away from her. Why was Sniper of all people there? Had he come to help her, only to be trapped himself? Had she caused yet another person to be involved in this mess?

 She wondered if she was imagining him, like she had with Davis, but the unsterile nature of the room seemed to have plunged her into a jutting, icy reality. She could smell, feel; practically taste the damp, dirty walls and floors. It had forced her to exist in the present whether she wanted to be there or not.

"You know what's funny." Sniper spoke, his voice humourless and cold. He seemed unfamiliar now – a different expression, a different tone and build. "I've been asking myself that for years now. What are you doing, Adam? What the fuck are you doing here?"

Iris pressed a shivering hand to her head in an attempt to regain a balance in her focus. "Sorry. It's just – I got drugged by these people. The same ones that put you here, probably...so... I'm not really... with it at the moment." She breathed in deeply through her nose. "Are you okay? What did they do to you? What happened?"

"You tell me." In an instant, his face was close to hers, the staleness of his breath fanning into her pervasively. One hand curled around her arm, squeezing so tightly that she began pushing him away.

Her eyes searched his desperately, her heart pounding. "What are you doing? Sniper, it's me."

"Don't you think that I fucking know that already?" He pushed her to the ground, one of his legs kicking out to plunge into her, slamming her body against the wall. As she screamed, he did it again. "Hey, look at you now Revenant. Look at you, all weak and alone." He laughed, watching the confusion swim in her eyes with every kick. "You're supposed to be a gang leader, you slut.  You had everyone else fooled, but not me. I always saw you for what you really are."

Iris clutched her stomach as he stopped kicking her, feeling the metallic taste of blood rise to her mouth. But the pain that was throbbing in her body was nothing compared to the betrayal she felt in her heart. She felt as if she had been completely and utterly destroyed. 

Sniper? Had he been the person to orchestrate this? Had he shot Hunter?

Sniper crouched over, coiling a bony hand around her chin and wrenching it so that she was facing him. "You know what I saw you as? Have a guess for me."

"What the fuck, Sniper," She growled through gritted teeth, trying to pry her chin out of his grip, "what the fuck happened to you?"

"Wrong answer. Guess again."

She glared at him, feeling the touch of his hand on her face as if it was searing hot, burning into her skin. "Get the fuck off me."

"Who am I kidding. You wouldn't guess that, you're too up-yourself to notice your own fucking mistakes." Sniper threw her head into the wall, before letting go and creating more distance between them; a distance that Iris was immediately grateful for. If she needed to find an ounce of strength to stand up for herself, she needed time.

"I saw you as a cold-blooded murderer." He smirked, an evil glint in his eye. Then, with a childish jump, he sang, "you're a fucking murderer."

"What?" She wiped her mouth. Her hand came away spotted with a dark red. "You're crazy – you're actually crazy. I'm not a murderer. Listen to me. You've got to listen to me."

Before she was able to comprehend his reaction, her head was being slammed into the wall repeatedly. Waves of indescribable pain began to stab into her; worsening with every scream and cry that escaped from her throat. Sniper yelled with a blind rage, "don't fucking tell me I'm crazy. You fucking killed him. You left him to die, and you think you can tell me that I'm fucking crazy?!"

When he stopped, she sobbed, feeling blood trickle down her neck. As she slumped against the wall, stars appearing at the edges of her eyes, she felt herself give in to the pain, losing a will to carry on. There was something so devastating about being hurt by someone you knew and loved; something that crushed you much harder than any physical pain endured.

But then it was as if she had only just heard Sniper's words. You fucking killed him. You left him to die.

Two of her gang members had died whilst she was leader: one, at the fault of the Mongrels. The other at the fault of her own bad decision. Though both deaths she had blamed herself for, one was a death that had replayed in the forefront of her mind like a broken record, each nightmare just as vivid and heart-wrenching as the rest. And that was because she knew, deep down, that she could have prevented it.

You left him to die. 

He couldn't have been talking about Davis. They were close, as all the members were, but Sniper and Davis were sometimes two clashing personalities, and despite Sniper's upset at Davis's death, this current anger; the anger that sent chills and bruises down her body, was something far, far stronger. 

"You're talking about...." She whispered, the name unable to leave her lips.

Sniper remained frozen and rigid in his place, his eyes bloodshot as he watched her understand what was going on. For a moment, he seemed just as weak as she felt, his stance hunched and closed as if barricading his body away. Then he flinched, running up to the wall and punching it with a loud yell, the strangled noise a mixture of rage and complete despair. Sniper rested his forehead against the wall, breathing in loudly as he clenched and unclenched his bruised, cut fists. "Charlie." He said softly, but he seemed to speak as if not to her – perhaps to himself. After a minute he slid down onto the floor, turning so his back was against it, and he was beside her. There was a tense, unease settled in the large gap between them; with each flickering personality of Sniper's multidimensional matter, Iris was put on edge – determined to remain as guarded and strong as she could.

Iris' brain began moving like clog work. Sniper knew Charlie. Sniper was distraught at his death. Sniper-

A new wave of sadness rushed over her as she remembered.

"I dunno, Iris. Sometimes I feel like this whole gang thing is doing me worse than good."

"Why?"

"I had this whole idea – this picture in my head about what it was gonna be like. I wanted to be feared. And that I know sounds lame, but I've never been someone menacing or whatever. Just a scrawny poor kid from London."

"I think you're menacing."

"I am now. Because of you guys. But – you know, I have a little brother. He gets bullied pretty badly, up to the point where the sons of bitches beat him up. I dunno... I guess I wanted to do this to show him that he could stand up for himself one day too. Even if he is a skinny little prick. Now he's scared for me. He thinks I'm gonna die doing this shit."

"You're his brother." She croaked, staring at Adam's profile in awe. Her heart was thumping at the revelation.

"His little weak ass brother. Yeah." He ran both hands through his hair frantically. "You know, I was at home when I found out that he died. Sitting upstairs watching some shit comedy film with my headphones on and my mind switched off. The police came to the door, told Mum and Dad, and whilst they were downstairs hearing about his death, I was completely unaware, laughing at some stupid joke in a film I didn't even like."

His voice seemed to waver, as if he was ready to cry. "Then the episode finished, and in that split second of silence between the next one, I heard this sound – it was like a moan and a wail, a shattering cry that pierced the walls around the house, filled with absolute pain. As soon as I heard it, I ran downstairs, seeing my mum lying on the floor, her head in her hands, with my crying dad holding her, frozen as to how to help, still distraught from the shock of it all. I knew that he died without even asking them. But they still told me the words anyway."

"I said to myself that it would get better. That's what they always tell you. I'm so sorry for your loss, Adam. He'll be looking down on you. It'll get better. Well you know what, it fucking doesn't. It doesn't get better. And as soon as I realised that, I knew I wanted the person who did this to my brother – to my family, to feel just as much pain as me. I wanted them to fucking suffer."

"So you joined the Sangue." Iris said quietly. She began remembering every detail, every clue.

"I guess I want to be one of you guys because I'm an asset you don't have."

"That's a strong statement to make. What don't we have?"

"The brains. You guys can be pretty blind to all the important stuff behind the scenes. I can hack, I can stay low, I can do quite a lot. I know information, things that'd take you weeks to find out."

"We don't make mistakes in the Sangue. Sure, hacking is a good skill, but we could get someone else to do that shit. You're not that special."

"Okay. If I'm not that special, how come I know about the drug bust up that nearly caught your asses in jail a year ago? Or every single meeting place for half the gangs in the city? I could find out more, but I'm not that much of an idiot to waste my time. And then there's that death you tried to cover up, a year ago. A fire, right? West London, an abandoned building that killed your own member, Charlie?"

"How did you know that? We –"

"Tried to cover it up, I know. Clearly not well enough. Take me in and it'll be lost forever. Besides, I might be skinny, but that doesn't make me weak. I'm pretty handy when it comes to guns."

"Fine. I'll take you in, but only if you're not a pain in my ass. Why do you want to be in the Sangue, anyway?"

"I've heard a lot about you guys. I think you're going to get me exactly what I want."

"I like the sound of that. What are we going to get you, then?"

"Relief."

"Relief?"

"Yeah, so I can deal with my past in the right way."

"Fair enough. Talk to Rex about rules, he learnt the hard way. Only call me Revenant until you're allowed a first name basis. Oh, and don't follow me around, I got other shit to do than to babysit a newbie. Other than that, you're one of us now. Congrats."

"Thanks. You won't regret it."

"Yeah, and I like I told you when I met you – you're fucking blind as shit." He sneered, his face twisting into an ugly display of disgust. "I planned everything. I might have been lying about loving what you do, but I didn't lie about my skills. Every single time I was one step ahead of you. Every fucking time."

"But how could you have known I'd get sent to Camp Juvy?" Iris frowned. "That couldn't have been planned."

"You know, it strikes me how you even got to be a gang leader in the first place. When there's a death, there's someone to blame. I needed a reason for the police to come knocking for you."

"But they came because the circumstances surrounding Davis's death were suspicious. How could you have known Davis was going to–" 

Iris stopped talking. Suddenly, like death itself, one overwhelming possibility had surfaced in her mind, stabbing into her with crushing blows.

No. It couldn't be. 

"The only way you could have known that Davis was going to die was if you..." Her voice wavered. "If you killed him."

Sniper laughed loudly, clapping his hands together in a slow, sarcastic manner. "Well done. You finally figured that out, at least. I was beginning to think you barely had a brain at all."

Her body began to shake. She felt like she was going to be sick. Iris had trusted him for so long, comforting him after Davis' death, and every time she was with him, every time she had confided in him, he had been planning to kill one of their own, as mercilessly and as pitilessly as he could.

Sniper had forced the Sangue into a jaded lens of the world that was only half true. And with that, with the brutal revenge he had planned, Davis had suffered the most.

"You fucking killed him." Iris cried, crawling away from him as fast as she could. Her head was spinning, still throbbing from the blood trickling down her face. "He did nothing to you. What the fuck did Davis ever do to you?"

"Nothing." Sniper shrugged, standing up slowly. "I mean, sure he was there when you let Charlie die, but he was important in getting you to America. Rest in Peace, Davis Adams. He did a good job of dying."

Driven with an indisputable rage, Iris ran towards him, writhing with an intensity that had been burning like a steady flame. Her body ploughed into his and she threw him against the wall, screaming with anger as he tried to fight back. One of her fists connected with his jaw, trying to punch into him at least a fraction of the pain that Davis had endured because of him.

But she wasn't as strong as she normally was: Sniper shoved her, hard, sending her smashing back onto the floor, her head taking most of the blow.

"Try and fight me, Iris, and I'll make your death as slow and as painful as I can. Actually, scratch that. I was going to do that anyway. That's how Charlie died." As he moved closer to her, he spat on her, laughing as she wiped it away with disgust. "You know how painful it is to burn to death, Revenant? Pretty damn painful. At least Davis's death was quick."

"You want me to thank you for that?" She clenched her jaw, trying to stop herself from lunging at him again. "You shot him. In case you're forgetting, that shit fucking hurts."

Sniper rolled his eyes. "How would you know? Actually, why don't you ask Hunter? He'll know."

Her eyes shot up to his at the mention of his name. "You told me he would be set free. You fucking told me–"

"Waa waa waa. I'll do it later." He smiled slowly, his face dim and barely lit as he stood half in the light of the torch, and half in the shadows. "I told you I'd let him go. I never said I would let him go alive."

"Please." She pleaded, desperation washing over her. Before, she would have been embarrassed at her outburst. She would have been disgusted at herself even having to beg the person that caused this mess. But she had no other choice; she had gone all this way for Hunter, for Levi. "Please, you can kill me. Just don't let him die. He did nothing. Don't let Levi feel the way you did when Charlie died."

"Nobody will ever feel how I did." Sniper yelled, snatching his arm back and shoving her away. One of his feet drove itself into her ribs. "Nobody will ever fucking know."

He released her, though his face still burned with an expression of fury. 

"Okay, okay. Just – tell me if he's alive." Iris inhaled slowly, trying to regain her breath. She was terrified that Hunter's body was merely meters away from her in the shadows, and there was nothing she could do about it. 

"He's alive." He snapped. "But look for him and I'll finish off the job."

She nodded, sinking back into herself so that she hugged her knees to her chest. She decided that the best way to calm Sniper down was to talk to him – maybe then she could try and negotiate Hunter to safety. "So how did you know the police would send me to Camp Juvy?"

"Because they're doing it all the time nowadays. If that didn't work, I was going to send a letter to your house and then your mum would have seen it anyway – whatever way, I'd have managed to get you there." He shrugged, a sly grin of pride settled on his face.

"Okay so you sent me off to Camp Juvy. But why? Why couldn't you do this closer to home?"

"I needed a way for you to get to America. I've been building this place for years – I bought it myself, it's completely off all grids tracking and internet wise so nobody can find you, and naturally I can store guns and whatnot because they're legal."

"But you're not a registered American citizen."

"I am. Mike Harris. 20, from New Orleans." He seemed unfazed by her shock. "I'm a fucking good hacker, like I said. I got connections everywhere, especially in America."

"But – Hunter. And Levi. Did you plan them being there?"

Sniper stretched, his lean arms wide in the open space. "Yeah, I approached Hunter, sent him over. He was pretty eager for the cash, all he had to do was get his brother to like you without making it obvious, but it pretty much happened without him even trying. Wrench was sent to throw you off the scent and make sure Hunter did everything, but he was an idiot and gave him that fucking phone." He sighed angrily. "But I managed to find a way out of that. I should really make Wrench pay for that, you know. I never liked the guy."

"So all of this – all of it was for revenge? For Charlie?"

Sniper nodded. His eyes glinted at her, dark pits of callousness. "For Charlie."

"Why didn't you just kill me when you had the chance?"

"Mm, and where would the fun be in that." His teeth peeked out between his two, peeling lips, crooked and yellowish. Up close, Iris began to notice all the details about Sniper – the fidgeting of his hands, the fleeting unstable nature of his gaze. Losing his brother had driven Sniper slowly insane, and unfortunately, he was one of the people that had fallen through the gaps, refusing help and a means to get better. All Sniper wanted was revenge.

And now this was it.

"I've got you right where I want you." When he spoke, it was eerily soft. Iris began to feel a slow, impending sense of doom fall onto her. "Weak, isolated, far away from anyone that could help. I can kill you any way I want, and nobody will ever find you."

"You're not going to kill me." Iris said defiantly. "I won't let you."

Sniper laughed once more. "Watch me. Just fucking watch me." 

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡   

AUTHORS NOTE: Helloooooo! Sorry for such a late update, for some reason I'm really struggling to finish this book and idk why?? I think it's because I'll cry when it's over, lol. 

Also the music isn't supposed to go with the vibe of this chapter - I just couldn't find one to suit the mood so I picked a fave with a title that related to it. 

ANYWAYS! SOME BIG BOMBSHELLS IN THIS ONE TODAY!!!!

I love me some gd shockin bombshells, I do. 

For real though, this chapter was so hard to write, apologies if it's terrible - I will go and edit it at some point in the future haha. 

What did you think of it?

Did you expect what happened to happen...(I think that makes sense...?)???

Let me knoooooow!

Loooads of love,