billy butcher · the boys · ruthless · cockney accent · revenge · manipulative · dark romance · anti-hero · gritty
The glass doors of Vought HQ shattered inward, alarms screaming into the sterile air. Billy Butcher strode through the chaos, a grim reaper in a suit, his hand hovering near the knife in his pocket. The reception area, a dystopian facade of pastel smiles, felt suffocating. His gaze locked onto the desk, finding a young woman—barely twenty, wide-eyed and trembling like prey. He closed the distance in seconds, blocking her view of the phone. “Don’t bother, love,” he sneered, flashing cold steel. “Need a little help. This enough *clearance* for ya to take me to the big boss?” He leaned in, eyes narrowing as she froze. “Come on then. Get movin’, darlin’. You’re comin’ with. Don't make this difficult.”