The Damned Path: Chronicles of Damien

The night air was colder near the docks. The wind howled against the steel containers stacked high like a maze of metal walls, and the sharp tang of salt water mixed with oil and rust filled my lungs. Ghost pulled his jacket tighter, his sharp eyes scanning the empty yard.

Somewhere in this mess, they had Leo.

I crouched behind a row of crates, watching as Kross's men loaded cargo onto a blacked-out freighter. The scene was organized—too organized. They weren't just moving drugs; this was something bigger.

"We can't charge in like last time," Ghost whispered beside me. "There are at least ten men guarding that ship, and if Kross is smart, Leo's not even near it."

I glanced at the guards. Some were armed with rifles, others carried bats and knives. Kross wasn't playing games anymore. He knew someone was targeting his operation—and he was ready to kill to protect it.

"I'm not leaving without my brother," I said, my voice low but steady.

Ghost nodded. "Then we need a plan."

I took a deep breath. "I'll draw them out. Cause a distraction. You get Leo out."

Ghost raised an eyebrow. "Suicidal much?"

"Maybe," I said, smirking. "But I don't care."

Before he could argue, a shrill scream echoed across the yard. Both of us turned sharply. A man was dragging a young woman by the arm, laughing as she struggled.

I recognized her. Emma—the dock worker's daughter. I'd seen her before, always quiet, always keeping her head down. Now she was caught in Kross's web.

"New plan," I said, standing. "We get both of them out."

Ghost groaned. "You just love making my job harder."

I started moving before he could say more, slipping between the shadows, inching closer to where Emma was being dragged toward one of the containers. My hands tightened into fists. I was tired of watching people like Kross hurt whoever they wanted.

As the thug opened the container door, I made my move. A quick sprint, and I slammed into him from behind, sending him crashing into the wall. His head hit metal with a satisfying crack.

Emma looked up at me, eyes wide. "Who—?"

"Run," I ordered. "Now. Get somewhere safe."

She didn't hesitate. She took off into the night, and I turned back to the container. Empty. No Leo.

"Damn it," I hissed under my breath.

"Damien." Ghost's voice crackled in my ear—he'd set us up with radios before coming. "They're moving someone toward the ship. Looks like a prisoner."

Leo.

I moved fast, circling around the crates, keeping low. As I reached the last cover before the dock, I saw him. Leo—hands tied, bruised and bloodied, being shoved forward by two of Kross's enforcers.

My gut twisted. He looked worse than I expected, but he was alive.

Ghost's voice was calm but urgent. "Two on him. Three more watching from the ship. You take left, I take right?"

I nodded even though he couldn't see me. "On my mark."

I watched them for a second, timing their steps. The guards laughed, casually kicking Leo when he stumbled. Fury burned in my chest.

"Mark."

I was moving before the word left my mouth. Sliding between crates, I was on the first man in seconds. My fist connected with his jaw, and before the second could react, I slammed his head into the steel container.

Ghost was already dealing with his targets, quiet and efficient as always.

But when I reached Leo, he could barely keep his head up.

"Hey, hey, it's me," I whispered, catching him before he fell. "I got you, bro."

Leo blinked, dazed. "Damien? You—you shouldn't have come..."

"Yeah, well, I never listen," I muttered, cutting the ropes around his wrists.

Gunfire erupted behind us—Ghost had been spotted. I shoved Leo behind the crates.

"Stay down," I ordered, pulling my gun.

I fired back, hitting one of the men on the dock. More were coming, though, and Ghost ducked behind a container, reloading.

"Ghost! You good?" I called out.

"Peachy," he replied, popping up to take a shot.

A flashbang exploded nearby, and I cursed, covering Leo's ears as the sound rang out.

"We need a way out!" Ghost shouted, moving to cover me and Leo.

I looked around. The freighter. It was risky, but if we could get on board, maybe we could escape through the water.

"Freighter," I said, pointing. "We make for the ship!"

Ghost gave me a sharp look but nodded. "Go! I'll cover you."

I hauled Leo up, supporting most of his weight as we ran. Bullets whizzed past us, hitting the crates and sparking off the metal.

One of Kross's men stepped out in front of us, gun raised—but before he could fire, Ghost's bullet took him down.

We reached the ramp of the ship, panting and sweating. I shoved Leo up first, climbing after him. Ghost was the last to make it, sliding under a hail of bullets before leaping onto the ramp.

On deck, I looked out over the burning warehouse in the distance—the one we torched the night before.

"This war is just getting started," I said, helping Leo sit down.

Ghost smirked. "Hope you're ready to finish it."

I looked at Leo—his face battered but alive. Then out at the city skyline.

"I will finish it," I promised. "Kross doesn't get to win."

As the freighter pulled away from the dock, vanishing into the night, I knew there was no going back. But I wasn't planning to.

This was just the beginning.