Clayton moved first.
Not out of hope but out of habit.
The first man reached for him and Clayton stepped inside the grab, driving his elbow into the man's throat. The impact stole the air from him instantly. A second man lunged, and Clayton pivoted, fist snapping out, catching him clean across the jaw. Bone met knuckle. The man staggered back, dazed but not down.
Two seconds.
Two men slowed.Not enough.
A third fist slammed into Clayton's ribs. Air left his lungs in a sharp gasp."crap they're too much".Another blow caught his shoulder. Someone grabbed his coat from behind and yanked him off balance.
He fought like a man who knew this wouldn't end well but refused to make it easy.
A knee.
An elbow.
A headbutt that split skin.
D.V watched calmly, hands in his pockets, rain sliding down his coat as even the umbrella couldn't hold the rain pouring down.
Then-
A dull whoomph cut through the chaos.
Clayton didn't see the bat.
He heard it.
A hollow sound.
Heavy. Final.
The world lurched sideways as pain detonated behind his eyes. His vision fractured into streaks of light and shadow. His legs forgot what they were for. The alley spun, rain and neon blurring together as he collapsed to one side of his body.
Someone laughed, more joined in.Someone swore.
Clayton tasted iron.
The pin lord stepped closer, crouching just enough to meet his gaze, taking a cigarette from his pocket and orders for a lighter "you know Clayton, I hate you having to walk in your old man's shoes too. I mean why do I have to waste a generation in the same alley way." Clayton hearing these words became shocked "this same alley?" D.V ordering them to finish the kill hears him talking "huh you still got oxygen in them windpipes of yours kid?".
"You should've slept," he said quietly.
Clayton tried to speak. Tried to move. His body refused both requests.
The rain grew louder.
Or maybe everything else was fading.
The alley lights stretched, pulling away from him. Sounds dulled, like they were sinking underwater. His notebook slipped from his coat, pages fluttering open—names, patterns, truths that would never be spoken aloud.
As darkness closed in, one thought surfaced, clear and sharp:
So this is how it ends.
Blank,just blank nothing but pitch black. The men gathering his body before the Pin lord signals them to erase every evidence. The men horrified as they know they erase enemies..... the machine. A giant powder mixing machine, this is where the great Clayton's body ends up grinded into tiny bloody meat pulps to feed to the dogs.
"Madness, this is madness" an henchmen said while throwing the last body part of Clayton into the mixer to be crushed.