Anon was jolted awake. He was rolled onto his side, muffled music played nearby with a mixture of drowned out voices. It was pitch black and the ground vibrated as he was tossed about. Once he gained his bearings. Anon realised he was in the boot of a car, his arms and legs were bound and there was something covering his mouth. No amount of movement made any difference to the material.

Even with his limbs bound in this confined space, Anon managed to manoeuvre onto his side, his bound hands feeling around the carpet like interior looking for the boot latch. Anon's heart beat quickly, the seriousness of the situation sinking in. His movements became more frantic, clasping at any change in the boot's textured surfaces.

The car veered sharply, slamming Anon into the side of the boot, jolting him out of his panicked haze, throwing him against the side. Landing on his back, Anon wiggled onto his side once more before the car slowed down to a stop. The rumbling of the engine and the music suddenly ceased as the muffled voices moved around the car.

A flash of light attacked Anon's eyes, his hands out of reflex moved to block the offending light before they were grabbed. Anon's body was yanked from the boot as he stumbled out of the car, landing on the concrete with a hard thud. Anon struggled to breath as all the air left his lungs. Without time to recover, he was pulled to his feet by what he recognises as the hooded man.

"Do anything stupid, and I'll break a bone, got it?"

Anon nodded his head in quick succession before the man pulled out a knife.

"Hold him."

Suddenly, Anon felt large hard gripping hands on his shoulders from behind him. The hooded man swiftly knelt down and cut the zip tie around Anon's legs. As the hooded man stood back up, the pressure on his shoulders lifted as he was turned around, facing a banged up and heavily graffitied metal door. Anon was able to take a few quick looks at his surrounds before he was forcefully escorted through the doorway. It looked like an old car park, but he could not see outside. Was he underground?

The cold industrial like exterior switched to a warm vibrant interior as loud EDM style music filled the building. The door was closed and locked behind them by the man in the smarter clothing before Anon's arm bindings were cut and the tape from his mouth removed. He rubbed his wrists and face as he was escorted further inside.

Anon was escorted up floor after floor of what had to be a block of flats. Each floor had many rooms with open doors, full of people, some with large cases and crates. Most of the snips of conversation Anon was able to make out over the loud music was about prices and deals.

They ascended another set of stairs, this floor only had one door and stood outside it was a tall Caucasian man, covered in tattoos. His arms were crossed as he lent against the wall. Anon swallowed hard as the man's gaze turned to him before he looked up at his captures.

"What the fuck Bradley?" The tattoo'd man questioned as he gestured to Anon before fully turning to the group.

The hooded pushed Anon forward. "This little twat decided it would be a great fucking idea to nick money that ain't his. Got that twitchy informant killed." He stated.

The tattoo'd man chuckled slightly as he turned towards the door before knocking on it. After a few seconds pass, he stepped away from the door as he gestured to it with a thumb.

Anon was escorted into what was a very lavish office. The floor was an intricate wood pattern with a shiny varnish. The walls were covered with large bookshelves and cabinets that held trophies, art and various weapons. Scattered around the room were plants and abstract art like statues. In the middle was a large wooden desk. Sat behind it was an older white man, his short hair a mixture of gray and black, his face scarred slightly and very rough looking with a slight stubble.

The room reeked of cigarettes and the smell only got stronger the further Anon went into the room. The older man behind the desk did not look up at them, instead focusing his attention on what looked like inner clock workings. His hands carefully moved as he poked and prodded a circular spring as it was gently placed in-between gears. After a quiet click did the man finally turn his attention to the guests.

His eyes met Anon for a few moments before moving to the hooded man. "Bradley. Mind telling me why there is a child in my office?" His voice was surprisingly soft, although his tone was drenched in venom as if offended.

The hooded man or Bradley seemed to shift slightly before he spoke. "The kid's action got our informant killed, and he saw too much."

The older man scratched his stubbled chin for a few moments before his eyes landed on Anon. "What's your name young man?"

Anon swallowed hard, finding the courage to speak. "It's uh, Anon. S-sir."

"Is that his bag?" The older man asked, gesturing to Bradley's occupied hand.

"Yeah, his wallet is inside." Bradley responded before passing the bag over the desk.

The older man quickly found the wallet as he looked through it, placing various bus cards and used train tickets onto the desk. Lastly he pulled out the family photo, turning it in one hand towards Anon.

"Is this your family young man?"

"It is yeah." Bradley quickly answered.

The older man slowly looked towards the hooded man with clear disdain. "Bradley, if I want you to answer I will tell you. For now, shut up."

Bradley simply nodded as he threw his hands up in acknowledgement.

"I apologise for the interruption. Could you answer the question?" The older man questioned, his tone turning soft.

"Yes sir it is." Anon quickly answered.

"I see. Well I understand this is all very sudden." The older man begins as he opens the draw and reaches for something. "But your life is now under my control. These people seem like lovely folks, but I will not hesitate." He finishes as he brings a lighter to the edge of the picture before the flame begins to climb the picture as it becomes warped and blackened.

The picture burns and melts away, revealing a sadistic smile on the older man's face as he chuckles. This sound echoes through Anon's very soul as it becomes deafening. His eyes seem to shake as his fists clench.

"Do you understand your situation Anon?" The older man questions, dropping the remanence of the ruined picture into a nearby ashtray.

Anon closed his eyes for a few seconds as he took a deep breath.

"I-I understand, Sir."

Author's Note

Hey all, thank you for being so patient. Just stuff at home is getting a bit hectic. But as usual I hope you enjoyed this chapter and please yell at me for any spelling or grammar mistakes.

I'm hoping to get back soon get back into routine and not missing deadlines but no promises.

Peace.