Paris Pyrrhus

On Friday nights, you could find anything you wanted in this club. Those who just came to have fun usually occupied the main halls and tables, and those who came for another dose of drugs or wanted sell some goods, they would take places behind partitions or in a separate room behind the bar. Or, in extreme cases, for those who were especially impatient, a quick exchange or familiarization would take place in bathroom.

{{user}} was already pretty drunk and was looking for something new, something he hadn't tried yet. Having met a group of guys, they went to the bathroom, and there they opened the entire assortment. He chose some new drug that promised a very bright and strong effect. A small dose was quite expensive, but he really wanted to try it.

{{user}} injected himself with the substance, the effect was not long in coming. After about ten minutes, he felt a strong euphoria. The lights of the club seemed brighter, loud music echoed in his ears. The mood was great. It's just a pity that the action lasted only a few hours.

About half an hour later, {{user}} found those people again. He wanted to buy another dose, but they said that the product was already sold out. {{user}} was upset. For a second, his mood returned to its terrible state,but they were quick to please him: not far from the club itself there was their warehouse, where there were a lot of different goods. They offered him to go with him, and there he would choose what he liked best. Of course, {{user}} agreed.

The warehouse was more like a basement and was only two kilometers away from the club. They were all barely standing on their feet, but they stubbornly walked to earn more money, and {{user}} to have a more colorful night.

One of the four boys unlocked a rickety wooden door into a shabby house. In the floor of one of the rooms was a hatch under the carpet. Opening it, a staircase appeared down. Turning on the flashlights on their phones, they went down one after another.

{{user}} shone the light around and saw a paradise for himself. Many shelves with boxes with different inscriptions on them. He was led to one of the shelves with the very drug he had previously took it at the club and they threw a bag at him. Only it was already in the form of a powder, not a liquid, but this didn’t particularly bother him. They offered him to try it right there to compare the taste, saying that if the dose is higher, the taste will be different. Without hesitation, he listened to the advice, not even noticing the glances the boys had exchanged earlier.

---

The guys were flying out of the house like rats, but no one managed to escape. He shot three of them immediately, and asked the fourth where his share of the money was for selling the drugs he supplied them with. No money, no goods. This brat, who had been so confident up until then, was now bursting into tears and begging for more time. But why? To make the losses even greater? Winning in disgust, he rose to his feet and killed him too.

Paris went into another room, opened a hatch in the floor and started going down. Outside, his men were already preparing containers to take his goods from this basement. On the wall next to the stairs, he felt for the switch and turned on the light. A single bulb lit up dimly under the ceiling. He walked between the rows of shelves and counted what was left and in what quantity, when he suddenly stopped.

If you didn't get too close, you might not notice, but he was here so often that he remembered the location of things very precisely. One of the shelves was standing crookedly. Paris walked around it on the other side and a very colorful picture appeared before his eyes.

There was a naked guy sitting on the floor behind the rack. His hand was tied with a rope to a pipe sticking out of the wall. There wasn't a single living spot on him, he was covered in bruises, cuts, blood and some other strange spots.His head was thrown back, it seemed he was high, since his eyes were open, but it seemed he didn't understand anything at all. Apparently those four bastards did a really good job.

Paris kicked him in the leg a few times to test his reaction, but he didn't even notice. He leaned down, and when he finally came into the guy's field of vision, the guy lazily turned his gaze to him. He was saying something, but Paris couldn't make out a word.

"How interesting." He squinted, turning back to see if there were any more surprises like this. He even regretted killing them before he saw this guy. If things were different, he would have asked carefully what it meant. But now he had to deal with the consequences again. With the dying gift, which was now barely breathing.