Page 54 of Witch's Promise

"You ungrateful little shit! After everything I've done for you, this is how you repay me? I took you in when you were nothing but a washed-up ex-assassin with nowhere else to go! I gave you purpose, a way to channel all that guilt and self-loathing into something productive!"

Sean's hands stilled, the Elder's words hitting too close to home. It was true, wasn't it? He'd come to the underground fights looking for punishment, for a way to atone for all the lives he'd taken. And the Elder had been all too happy to oblige, to mold Sean into his star attraction.

But things were different now. He had a chance - a small, fragile chance - at something better. At redemption that didn't involve blood and broken bones.

"I'm grateful for what you've done," Sean said, surprised by how steady his voice sounded. "But this isn't my life anymore. I need to make a change."

The Elder's face contorted with fury. "A change? What, you think you can just walk away and start fresh? That you can wash the blood off your hands and play at being normal? You're a killer, Sean. It's in your blood. It's who you are!"

The words hit Sean like a physical blow, dredging up all the doubt and self-loathing he'd been trying so hard to push down. But before he could spiral into that familiar pit of despair, his phone pinged.

Sean fished the device from his pocket, grateful for the distraction. A message from Katelyn lit up the screen:

Your dad came through. Riley last seen at abandoned church in Central Salem. Be careful.

A surge of adrenaline, different from the fight-high but no less potent, coursed through Sean's veins. This was it. A real lead on Riley, a chance to actually do some good instead of just punching his demons into submission.

"I've got to go," Sean said, shouldering his bag. "Thanks for everything, old man, but I'm out."

The Elder's face twisted into an ugly sneer. "You're not going anywhere, boy. Brick! Get in here and stop this ungrateful bastard!"

The door burst open, revealing the hulking form of Brick, the club's ogre bouncer. Sean felt a flicker of regret - he'd always liked Brick, even if the guy was dumber than a bag of rocks.

"Sorry about this, big guy," Sean muttered.

Before Brick could take more than two steps into the room, Sean called upon his magic. Shadows writhed at his command, surging forward to wrap around Brick's massive form. The ogre let out a startled grunt as tendrils of darkness pinned his arms to his sides, immobilizing him against the wall.

The Elder's eyes widened in shock and fear. "You said that you wouldn’t use your magic on me!”

Sean allowed himself a grim smile. "I lied."

With a flick of his wrist, more shadows sprang to life, pinning the other fighters and bouncers who'd come running at the commotion. Sean advanced on the Elder, enjoying the way the old man cowered before him.

"Listen carefully," Sean growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I'm walking out of here, and you're going to let me go. If I ever hear about you trying to track me down or cause trouble for me or mine, I'll show you exactly why I was my father's best assassin. Got it?"

The Elder nodded frantically, his earlier bravado evaporating in the face of Sean's unleashed power. "Y-yes, of course! Whatever you say! Just... please, don't hurt me!"

Sean felt a flicker of disgust - at the Elder's cowardice, yes, but also at himself. How easily he'd slipped back into the role of intimidator, of monster. It was a stark reminder of just how thin the line was between who he'd been and who he was trying to become.

With a sigh, Sean released his hold on the shadows. They dissipated like smoke, leaving behind a room full of confused and frightened fighters. Without another word, Sean shouldered his bag and strode out of the club.

The cool night air hit him like a slap to the face, grounding him in the present. Sean took a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering adrenaline and conflicting emotions warring inside him.

The abandonedchurch loomed before Sean, a decaying monument to forgotten faith. Its weathered stone facade was etched with decades of neglect, ivy creeping up crumbling walls like nature's slow reclamation. Sean cut the engine of his motorcycle, the sudden silence amplifying the eerie atmosphere.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Riley?" Sean muttered, securing his helmet to the bike. The question hung in the air, unanswered and foreboding.

As Sean approached the church, his instincts screamed danger. Years of training had honed his senses to a razor's edge, and right now, every nerve ending was on high alert. The rotting wooden doors creaked ominously as he pushed them open, the sound echoing through the cavernous interior.

The church's interior was a study in decay. Moonlight filtered through broken stained glass, casting fractured rainbows across dust-covered pews. The air was thick with the musty scent of abandonment, tinged with something darker that Sean couldn't quite place.

He moved cautiously, each step calculated to minimize noise. But in the oppressive silence, even his breath seemed thunderous. Sean's eyes darted from shadow to shadow, searching for any sign of movement, any hint of Riley's presence.

Nothing.

The emptiness was unnerving. Sean had expected what? A trap? An ambush? Certainly not this eerie stillness. It felt wrong, like the calm before a storm that promised only destruction.

As he neared the altar, a floorboard groaned beneath his foot. Sean froze, every muscle tensed for action. But the onlyresponse was the settling of the old building, timbers creaking like arthritic joints.

---