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NOTE:
We're on Chapter 6 guys!! Unfortunately, the updates will come out slowly because of midterms. On the bright side, the semester is almost over. I hope you enjoy this chapter and if so don't forget to vote, comment, and share. :)

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0 6 | How Far We Go

C A L I X A C E

Calix was a foolish man. Foolish in the way he allowed desire to ooze out of him like a fountain filled with ichor. Foolish in the way rustic metal cavorted in his mouth as space metaphors trailed from his soft, fiery lips. He was a foolish, foolish man. Because after everything, he still sought after that wonderland that grazed her essence and trickled complexities from her aura. Calix had never been foolish, but damnation scarred his presence for interacting with her. He was foolish for brushing his skin against hers. Foolish for allowing such maddening thoughts to consume him. She was slowly becoming his favorite kind of poison.

Hymns of silence awoke at his departure. The wind kissed his cheek and nestled his skin. A haze floundered but he had never been more aware than he had been then. That chill was enough to shatter any salacious fantasies that conjured in his mind. It was crisp and nipping, nothing about it tender and everything about it direct.

It was enough to swivel him toward his original objective. Snake. And averting from his new favorite kind of distraction. Bumping into Vulia hadn't been a part of his original plan, but he didn't let that off track. Because this was a train with a one-time stop he couldn't miss it. So when Calix caught wind of Snake's frequent smoke breaks, he was a man of action. Plan B was quickly initiated: stealthily, quietly, and hastily. He'd be in and out.

His breaks usually lasted around an hour at about the same time. Originally, if Vulia hadn't been present, Calix would have pulled the stunt of needing a tattoo from Snake and threatening him while they were in the room alone. But being in the alleyway behind the tattoo parlor was a bit more fitting for Calix now that he lost course of his original plan. Snake would be more vulnerable and there'd be fewer bystanders. The perfect opening.

Trash loitered the space and the sun had been vacant in the sky. Darkness loomed over that area, Calix's shadow a mere friend and an enemy to Snake. No one else was present but the two. Fucking perfect. Calix stepped into the cruddy alleyway. He watched Snake's semi-circle walk while his eyes stayed trained on the ground in deep thought. He hadn't heard Calix's quiet invasion and if the plan was to kill Snake that day, he could have easily gone through with it.

He pressed the gun against the back of Snake's head and it was like the life flushed out of Snake. He could practically hear Snake's heartbeat pounding in his throat and dropping to his stomach. he could smell his fear as if it had been the most expensive cologne to grace the Earth. And that brought a sick smile to his face as he cocked the gun back to ensure that the fear lingered. Snake remained still.

"Turn around and if you try anything I'll put a bullet in your fucking skull," Calix stated calmly. Snake did as he was told, hands up, and turning slowly. The cigarette dangled from Snake's lips, the tobacco ash slowly kissing the cigarette butt as it accumulated and sprinkled onto the ground in a pile between them. Snake's dark eyes met Calix's bright, soulless irises. There was a flicker of desperation, but he caught it.

"What do you want Calix?"

"You dead," Calix admitted. "But I was informed of a better solution; one that could benefit us both."

"What are you playing at?"

Calix pressed the metal of the gun to Snake's forehead. Beads of sweat gurgled and splintered against his skin and Calix detected the trepidation in his body language. Subtle to the average man, but Calix was far from average. He detected it too easily.

"I want you to deliver a message to your boss," Calix informed. "Tell him to meet me at the boxing ring tonight. Tell him to come alone and so will I."

Calix pressed the gun harder into his skin, assuring him that he was serious.

"He won't meet you anywhere," Snake informed him as if to counter his efforts. He was trying not to be afraid, but it was evident. Things like that you couldn't get past Calix, and maybe he needed a bit more convincing. Maybe, he needed a bit more fear.

"Oh, but he will," Calix challenged, a sinister look bubbling on his face. He gave Snake a smirk and swung the gun into Snake's jaw. A cracking sound flew from his bones when the metal connected with bone. The sound echoed in the alleyway, but that hardly fazed Calix. The cigarette flew out of his mouth, landing somewhere distant. Snake shrieked in pain, clasping onto his jaw and leaning over as if that'd contain the excruciating pain he erupted. "Otherwise, I will retaliate in a way I see fit. This, Snake, is my brother's solution."

He shot at Snake's leg without a thought, finding so much enjoyment in watching this man crumble into a pathetic mess. Snake flew to the ground in unbearable pain, groaning and moaning and gripping where the bullet guzzled through his pants and into his raw flesh. Blood stained the fabric of his jeans, slowly dripping out into a pile. Snake had decorated the floor, him and his blood.

"Mine is far more violent."

Calix walked off without a second glance, letting the wailing of Snake fill the day as it blended away and he left the premises. And he hoped that was a warning for Delano and his men that he was just getting started. A warning for all those involved, and all those adjacent. That Calix Ace was coming and that there was no mercy left in him, fear blundering into smoke which swallowed the city. If Delano didn't accept, there was something far more tragic awaiting him and his men.

He made it to his car, still undetected, and drove off in silence. When he arrived back at the mansion, Maverick had been the only one there by the looks of it. He was sitting on the sofa in the living room by the fireplace. It wasn't lit, but Maverick's eyes remained glued to the pit which held smothered black ruins. He tore his gaze from it when he caught sight of Calix's entrance. Their eyes met for a moment before Calix spoke.

"Any update on the territories?" he questioned as he entered the living room and collected a spot in the armchair, closest to the empty fireplace. Maverick averted his gaze as if to insinuate that things hadn't gotten better. "Has there been another attack, Maverick?"

Maverick responded deeply, but shame and a tinge of remorse twiddled with his tone. Calix released a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose calmly. Maverick didn't respond and that was enough. "Christ, I should have put a bullet in Snake's fucking head."

"No one was killed," Maverick added. "It was a light attack, but it wasn't anything our men couldn't handle. I still think my solution can work, Calix."

"And if it doesn't I'm not holding back, Maverick. You understand?"

Maverick nodded in agreement. A lick of silence passed. So quiet you could hear a pin drop. It was awkward. It was more painful than anything because Maverick craved a different solution and Calix wanted bloodshed.

"Are we still on for the boxing ring tonight?" Maverick wondered. "I've already placed my bets."

"Yes," Calix agreed. "Delano will be joining us."

This brought a smile to Maverick's face as he turned to look at his older brother triumphantly. Nothing more needed to be exchanged at that and Calix rose. His back had been facing Maverick and he was on the way to leave, but Maverick found it the appropriate time to speak once more.

"If all goes to hell, Calix. We take his sister."

A chill crept up his spine, but he remained stoic as he continued on his path, leaving Maverick there. Maybe that hadn't been a bad idea, but if he went on with it Delano would still be alive. Calix wanted him dead, regardless of the circumstances, but then his mind waged the war of having Vulia despite it all. She'd be there, causing a ripple and splitting the gangs into two. And eventually, if Calix decided to go after that solution, Vulia Amour would have to choose. She'd have to choose between Calix or her brother and there was doubt in Calix's mind that she'd choose her brother. So Calix wouldn't make her choose. He wouldn't take her.

He'd much rather have her begging on her knees for him willingly. That was far more pleasurable. Finally, he turned to face his brother, expression unreadable and void of any emotion. Like stone, he stood.

"I have other plans for Vulia Amour."

The expression on Maverick's face was a mixture of inquiry, worry, and fear for the woman's name that slipped from his lips. Rebounded with absurdity as disillusionment danced between the two men. Then a stench of silence flooded the space and Calix exited.

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When the night came, chaos invaded. A graveyard of stars speckled the sky, the moon a bright curve in the darkness. A morbid and terminal sensation crept along Calix's skin, signaling a catastrophe. But there was no fear for the outcomes, no diversion among the ungodly paths he walked. A blade brushed his rugged skin and speckles of hair undressed into the sink. A swipe after another until red droplets dabbled and stained his sink carmine. He grabbed the towel and washed his skin clean of the villainous color. Nevertheless, it couldn't wipe away the blood that stained his hands. He could never, never wash that away. Because it was as permanent as the scars that seeped into his soul.

When it came to professional occasions, though, Calix always cleaned up nicely. If he hadn't been a ruthless killer in the mafia, modeling would have worked out for him in a normal life. But Calix Ace didn't live a normal life. He was never meant to live a normal life because this life chose him before he had the choice. All in all, he was deemed cursed from the start. He birthed nothing but wreckage. Storms always brewed in his chest and mind, releasing fury on everything and everyone that fucked with him. Some would say it was always in his nature. To torture the beautiful and swallow the wicked.

Once he finished dressing, he coiled his hands together amidst him in the mirror. He didn't recognize the person that stared back at him. Maybe he had never known that man. Maybe he was too far gone because he was simply tarnished beyond repair. Or he was always meant to be the anti-hero? He tucked his gun away, then watched as his expression resigned. A heavy sigh escaped his mouth. Then, he left the bathroom.

The drive lasted about thirty minutes. Maverick and River trailed Calix, along with some other members that'd be scattered at the event. It was simply a precaution because no man's word could truly be trusted and who was to say that Delano would keep true to the word Calix proposed with Snake's wellbeing?  They drove through canopies of trees and dendritic shadows cascading the sides of vehicles. All while the light of the moon remained a steady beckon in the insanity which resided in the unknown. When he arrived, it was evident by the number of cars pooling in the parking lot. Cars that spelled money. Calix could practically smell the pretentious aura that wafted in the air.

And momentarily he thought of Vulia and her words. Those fuckers were far more pretentious than Calix if he had embodied that insult as Vulia claimed. This was a world she hadn't been in, a world she hadn't seen fully quite yet. He exited his car, straightened his suit jacket, and made his way to the entrance. An inkling told him that his brothers hadn't been far off from his trail.

The underground arena leaked a stark chandelier of white, blazing light in a variety of different directions to exude a feeling of competitiveness and specific concentration. He had entered a false heaven, a nirvanic dimension with shadows oozing from foreign corners. It confined him to the true reality of the environment and his agenda. The ring was centered in the middle of the room and the fighters hadn't been introduced yet.

Chatter and voices boomed in the space, most likely discussing their bets. This was a lair of money, crime, and death. All rolled in three and Calix couldn't have been more alert. He wasn't usually a punctual man in terms of himself, but when it came to other people being on time for him he took it very seriously. It wasn't something he took lightly. Because time is of the essence. During those circumstances, though, he hadn't been late, nor had he been early. He showed up at a perfect time. He had enough time to drunk up the situation and formulate an opinion on the beings who congregated in the space.

The place had been crowded, a sea of strangers with enough money to feed countries alone. Maverick and River trailed behind him after moments, scanning the place as equally. When Calix caught sight of Delano he knew that he was in the right place. He nodded at his brothers and watched them disperse as he approached his seat next to Delano. It was smart of Calix to choose somewhere public as well as loud, meaning that he could talk in loud riddles and simply fuck with Delano's head until he got what he wanted.

"You showed," Calix stated when he sat down. "I thought I'd have to put a bullet next to his heart."

"What the fuck do you want? Why did you want to meet?" Delano gritted out, keeping his eyes on the empty ring. Neither of the men looked at the other. "I'll put a bullet in your head for what you did to my sister, and I will find so much pleasure in watching you fall."

Calix nearly laughed. He turned to meet Delano's dark gaze and his seething expression.

"That wasn't my doing," Calix confessed. "And I'd be careful with my words if I were you. I know you didn't come alone."

Calix jutted his chin to the corner where two men were staring at Calix and Delano intensely and obviously. He turned his gaze to the ring as the announcer came over the speaker to introduce the fighter momentarily when they entered. The crowd roared for their respective choosing and once the crowd died down some Calix slipped in the sentence.

"If you don't stop the invasions, Delano, I can only promise you death from here."

"Then this means war, Calix."

Initially, Calix was supposed to come to some kind of compromise to subdue Delano and his constant attacks. Initially, Maverick's plan was supposed to work and he was going to walk to that arena with an ally instead of a foe. It wasn't pride that changed the plan. It was the mere mention of his fall. That mere interjection was enough for Calix to know that they wouldn't see eye to eye. Delano was a man with blind ambition. He didn't see the aftermath, all he saw was the target. All he wanted was the power, maybe equally as bad as Calix. Because being drunk on power made you high on life. Who didn't crave that feeling? In the end, though, someone had to fall.

"May the best man win," Calix said as the boxing bell rang and the fight began. Jake 'Merciless' Hackman versus Russel 'Hurricane' Knott. Hurricane landed the first punch and out of Calix's peripheral, he could see Delano nodding approvingly at the blow. Merciless stumbled back a bit but stayed on the defense. This occurred until the time ran out and round 2 was prompted. The fighters gargled their water down their throats, sweat being wiped from their foreheads in their respective corners.

During the entire time all Calix could think about was how he'd strike back against Delano. He'd have to beat him at his own game and figure out why he had been doing that. He had to uncover it discretely. Round 2 started and the men seemed a bit less energetic than in the first round. it was evident but they continued to put up a fight.

"You know, Calix, I think you are a very lucky man," Delano started as Hurricane landed punch after punch and Merciless couldn't respond fast enough.

"Hm."

Delano leaned over to Calix, making sure that he heard his words carefully. "My father should have killed you, and I'm going to have fun fulfilling the task he didn't finish."

Calix smirked, almost mockingly. Merciless was able to swing, knocking Hurricane off course. He delivered another jab, then another, then an uppercut. The crowd roared, people flailing into the air and jumping out of their chairs. Merciless continued to send blows and with one last swing Hurricane tumbled to the ground. The army of audience members that rooted for Merciless hyped and hollered as he jumped around the ring in victory.

He pumped his gloves toward the ceiling, bouncing off the ropes with an ear-to-ear grin. A bruise swelled on his eyelid and his lip was busted, but that hadn't mattered to him. It was clear who suffered the most. It was the man struggling to get up from the ground with defeat dancing in his eyes. It was a juxtaposition to the glimmer shining in Calix's own eyes. Because he had just won half a million dollars that night.

Then, like a light switch that satisfaction was shortlived. Bullets ricocheted and soared through the air. Delano didn't flinch and Calix knew that the attack was meant for him. Screams filled the arena as people ran for the exit and the sound of gunshots flew in different directions where he lingered. He caught sight of both his brothers, trying to unravel the culprit as they searched, but didn't shoot. They knew better.

"You son of a bitch," Calix grumbled as he caught sight of Delano exiting the space. The entire thing was a setup. Delano was never going to comply or hear what Calix had to say. He simply saw this as the perfect opportunity. Calix took that as the opportunity to run after Delano. He darted toward the exit, the night air bustling into his clothing and lathering his face. A car squirted off when he made it out, a cloud of dust blasting in its wake. It didn't take a fool to know that it had been Delano.

The fucking coward. River and Maverick joined him outside as people continued to run out, insinuating that they probably killed or injured the man responsible for the flying bullets.

"Well, whose grand fucking plan was it to meet up with him," River stated obviously, tossing his hands in the air and burning a hole in the side of Maverick's face. Maverick remained silent. The crunch of shoes against the ground and the roar of engines cracked in the silence between the trio. And finally, finally, Calix spoke.

"Tell the men to strike 18th Street. Leave no survivors."

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TO BE CONTINUED

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