The Berserker

Chapter 27

Some men were on their feet, and they turned locking eyes. They dropped as soon as they did, my movements precise, controlled, steps never faltering. The men who were still slumped over earned a bullet to the head. There was no other movement.

Flashing lights, red and blue, yet silent shone through the door. Backup had arrived. Nice of them to join the party. Two entrances meant two entry points. A wicked idea formed in my mind and I got ready, sitting near the front. I stole a helmet on my way and waited, the knife limp in my hand. A hissing sound and some smoke filled the room. They entered, footsteps treading carefully.

Eyes narrow slits, I counted fifteen sets of footsteps. Six further away, nine from the front.

"They're all dead," someone reported, while a set of footsteps came my way.

A hand brushed my neck and I lunged, knife twisting deep into his throat. Laying him down gently, I relieved him of his weapon.

Just one more and then I could shoot without a care, I thought with a grin, falling in step with another.

I was his perfect shadow.

"Hey wat -" someone warned, but the blood spray muted his words. Ripping the knife from the corpse's neck, I dropped to the floor, wrenching the gun from the lifeless body, bullets flying. Back flat, I waited it out, keeping an even breath.

"One's still alive!"

Springing to my feet, I fired aiming for the head. Three figures dropped. I shot in a sweeping arc to my left, keeping the remaining ten on their toes, while ensuring the three were truly dead. My footsteps were light and quick, plastering to a wall as the smoke cleared. Two others were still by the other end, closer to our exit point. One moved and I didn't even have to lift a finger: they fired on their own man. I killed the other, predicting when the other would stop fighting.

Seven dead.

Peeking, I stiffened at their proximity to the elevator. Two were stepping out to see if anyone in the lobby was alive. Snatching the closest one to me, I shot the other, emptying the clip. Air was expelled from my lungs, an elbow catching my gut. Blood coated my tongue as I accidentally bit my lip.

Knees, head, snap.

Kick to the back of his knees, balance was lost. Bashing his head, disoriented enough that I had the time to snap his neck.

Nine dead. Six left. Two guns.

Hoisting the corpse in front, I kept one gun trained under his arm. I edged along the wall, shots fired. Two on one side it seemed. Then I heard it. The sound of opportunity. Tossing the body, I sprinted knife in hand, the weight so familiar.

"S***!"

Its eyes widened in fear, I could practically taste it. Three slashes, dead. Another in my line of sight, it's barrel trained on me. I kicked it, shot missing, but my knife didn't, embedding deep in its throat. Another was wounded by the stray bullet. Smiling, I smashed the skull against the wall, a satisfying crack following.

A force slammed me into the wall, my smile transforming into a frown. This pest thought it could overpower me? Terribly mistaken.

Arm twist, knife into side, head up, throat exposed, collapse esophagus, knife in the one behind this pest.

Without fail, the pest fell, gasping for the last of whatever could make it down to the lungs. Another attacked, silver flashing in smoky light.

Advancing, my body moved fluidly, never taking my eyes off the determined ones that stared back. I caught its wrist, squeezing while my fist aimed for the nose. Blocked. I gave it a dark smile kicking the knee. Crack. It screamed. My grin grew wider. I bashed the helmet into the nose. This time it couldn't fight back.