Deamonz New Leader

“But Cyril, you’re the only leader we could possibly have for the Deamons. Look at all the different things we’ve accomplished,” the right hand man of the Deamons said to his leader as he stood in the room one with a door. It was closed for obvious reasons; the other men didn’t need to hear their leader was attempting to leave them after so many years.

“You know me better than that. If I wasn’t like this,” Cyril spat as he motioned with his hand to his body. “I would stay, but sadly there is no guarantee I could keep all of you safe. They have their methods of making others do their bidding. Besides, I can’t even control.”

“We can help you!” he watched Cyril sigh as he sat there on the broken down chair. He knew Cyril was at least thinking about that option with his thumb and fore finger pinching the bridge of his nose. “We can’t lose you. Not you as Cyril or Tybalt.”

Giving another defeated sigh, Cyril took out his pack of cigarettes. It was something he had picked up to try and quench the anger that started to grow deep within him. These new feelings, they were all the results of those horrid experiments, but there was nothing he could do now besides try and live with it. If he couldn’t then he would have to entrust his death to someone. Cyril brought the small object to his mouth, lighting it slowly as he glanced at his friend. The two had been through so much in the few years they were together, but this was something Cyril did not want him part of.

“You can’t follow me this time. But if you hear the name Tybalt, know that it’s me and I’m still around,” he stood up with ease and the grace of a cat. It was one of the reasons why his nickname had been Tybalt, King of the Cats, yet those people, they had turned him into something else entirely.

Cyril pulled the hood up on his hoodie, the smoke from his cigarette the only trace of him anyone would be able to see since there were no windows. If the right hand man just stood there, he knew Cyril would walk through those doors and never come back. He knew their leader would carry the burden on his shoulders all himself. Reflexively, he grabbed at Cyril’s arm.

“What?” he didn’t turn to face his friend, in fear that he would not be able to leave.

“If you need anything, let us know. We have your back,” Cyril nodded once before heading to the door and pausing once more. “They’ll try and use the gang as a bargaining chip against me. So I trust you, as their new leader, to keep everyone safe.”

Giving his friend one last smile, Cyril open and closed the door to his old gang.