"Power to the women who are venom."
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A rivalry between a secret anti-government organization and its deviant counterpart; will seven boys and a girl lead justice to be served?
2034 has brought upon the presidency of Allison Diggory, a woman both l...
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The bullet tears mercilessly through the guard's head, blood splattering everywhere and causing the other four to erupt in a series of shouts. They scramble around, instantly spotting you and the gaping bullet hole smoking from the window your positioned at.
Quickly, you reload and aim again for another one, killing him. He falls to the ground as the remaining three men dash to rush up the red stairs to your elevated position.
'Fuck,' your eyes widen at their speed. 'They're fast.'
Backing away from your weapon, you swallow dryly. You backpedal, aware of the acid gun in your belt as you scramble to dig it out.
In your panic, a man lunges for you, taking you to the ground and striking you across the face. Pain erupts in tiny needles up your jaw, tears pricking your eyes as you thrash around. His hands pin you down on your wrists.
Using all of the lower body strength you can manage, you use your lithe body to bring your knees to your chest, kicking them forwards forcefully.
Your heel jabs painfully into the man's groin, causing him to lose grip on one of your hands. With labored breaths, you flip him over on his side, now on top of him.
You throw in some hard punches, managing to cause to man to bleed as he groans in pain. The two men following him grab you from behind, but you don't allow them to have their time with you. The second their rough hands fumble for your waist and underarms, you slide out of their clutches, punching and kicking with all your might.
But they kept coming back for more. You back yourself into a corner, finally getting out your acid gun and holding it behind your leg slightly. 'They're well-trained. Professionally, it seems. But they're weaponless — either that, or they're underestimating me.'
You wipe blood off your mouth with your free hand. Why do these men always underestimate you?
You smile crookedly, raising your acid gun as the men stalk towards you. Their faces pale, and you savor their expressions' terror before you pull the trigger, the sound exploding in echoes through the warehouse.
Eyes shut and ears ringing, you peek open one eye to observe the damage.
The yellowish acidic liquid smokes in a residue on their bodies, burning through their flesh and emitting a atrocious stench. Your nostrils burn as you bile rises up in your throat at their mangled and deformed burnt bodies. It's not a pretty sight to see, even for you.
"Disgusting," you say in observation, stepping over their bodies as your heels click on the red metal below you.
You pocket the acid gun for convenience as you hurry down the steps to Jimin. You step along the dirty concrete, making your way to him and only him.
"Weasley!" you whisper-shout, grabbing him by his shoulders and shaking him. His plump lips are parted, in a deep sleep as his crimson locks fall in clumps over his almond-shaped eyes.
