Victim

Chapter 12 - Revenge

Barbs POV (2 years ago):

She crouched underneath the overhanging tree and scrubbed the blood off her fingers in the crystal water. The blood flowed into the river water and vanished as if it never existed. Barb knew better. A fall breeze drifted between the trees, carrying the scents of faunas and nature. But Barb couldn't enjoy it. 

She has to move fast.

She had to find it; it was her only chance for revenge. She was going to make them pay for all her suffering and pain.

She trekked through endless greenery, never stopping. Finally, she reached a fallen tree that spanned a boiling, white-capped river.

I'm here.

She tried to calm the panic, but her terror mounted with every step. She would have to cross the river to reach the place. Grabbing all her courage, she carefully stepped on the rotting wood. She took another step. This one wasn't as fortunate.

She fell down and down into a world of icy hatred, and she found herself onshore. Looking around her, Barb realized something.

There were fresh footprints.

She reached for her bag, but her hands touched empty air. Horror crashed through her as she realized that she must've lost all her belongings to the raging river. Only her knife that she had fastened to her belt remained.

The world seemed to go silent as a man stepped out from the undergrowth. Neither of them moved. A thousand emotions went through Barb. Fear, realization, and shock. Barb stared at him, surveying him closely.

"Hello again, Barb. Nice day for tracking, right?" He had a slow smile, almost like a dare. He took a step forward.

No, not Gerald. Out of all the men, it had to be Gerald.

"Stay back," Barb pulled out her knife, both of her hands on the hard handle. The man took a glance at the knife, then chuckled.

"Did you really think I'd come unprepared? You really need to learn your lesson; we're always prepared." He snickered at her and grabbed an iron bar from his back. He lightly tapped the bar on his hand, and Barb realized he was letting the moment sink into her. Outrage threatened to burst from her, but she needed to remain calm.

She needed to act fast.

As swift as a fox, she grabbed him by the collar and tried to push him onto the ground. Suddenly, another man appeared behind her and tried to stab her in the ankle with a combat knife.

Shit. There's more.

Barb prevented it by swinging her knife into his thrusting arm, letting go of Gerald. He growled back at her in contempt, as he tried to recover from the blow for a second attempt. Barb slammed her left foot down on his arm, pinning it to the soil beneath. His teeth bared like a wild animal, as he aggressively tried to free his arm.

He hit Barb in the knee with his free hand and she dropped to a kneel from the building pain with each swift blow. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Gerald watching them, amusement clear in his gaze.

That bastard's enjoying this, it's like a show for him.

She couldn't control her anger anymore and put her hands into a fist and slammed hard into her attacker's chest, winding him. She noticed the gun laying in his belt and grabbed it. She slammed the butt of the rifle down onto his throat, crushing his windpipe. Panting, she rose to her feet, only to be pelted by another man a few meters down.

God, how many are there? I don't think I can hold off any longer.

She staggered as the large man hit her in the head. Growling through gritted teeth, she forced her battered body towards him. She kept an eye on him as he fumbled for his gun. Realizing what he was going to do, she clicked her own gun, but no bullets came out. Groaning, she threw her rifle at him. The heel of the gun hit him with a dull thud before awkwardly clattering to the floor. She managed to distract him long enough to get on him.

She kicked his hand with her injured leg, sending both his hand and pistol hard into his stomach, he groaned from the impact. Barb kicked the weapon up, the pistol slammed into his face busting his nose. He shrieks, but it's cut short as a small burst of rifle fire hits him in the back.

Bullets intended for me.

Using the corpse as a shield. His body absorbs the sporadic fire.

"That's enough! I'll have to deal with you myself." Gerald growls at her from his seat. Barb wasn't stupid, she knew what a formidable opponent he was.

He was the most skilled man, besides Master.

All her years of training would never have prepared her to fight him, he was almost impossible to beat.

Almost.

Gerald grabbed his iron bar, to bear down on Barb, but she caught him with her right hand. She brought a heavy fist to meet his face. She hit him again. Suddenly, he took a hold of her arm with both hands, unpinning her pistol hand, and breaks it at her forearm. Barb howls in pain letting the pistol drop from her grip.

I have a daughter to get back to... I have to fight. I can't die, not today.

Gerald twists around with her arm still in his iron grip, and he grappled her over his shoulder, feeling her arm dislocate. She screamed in more pain as she traveled to the bloodied floor below. Barb couldn't ever imagine feeling such pain.

They both tumbled downward, hitting hard on impact with the unforgiving surface. Static danced before her eyes from the blow, and her face hurt.

Hell, everything hurt.

Already tired from her fight with the 2 other men, she could barely move to get up. Sharp pointed pain erupted in her kidneys as Gerald repeatedly struck her chest. Trying to ignore the sharp pains of her assaulter, she forced her left arm between his legs and beneath him as he tore into her. Her other arm groped around for some part of him to hold onto, but she couldn't find any, and all she could hear is his fury and contempt.

She was being suffocated.

For the first time during the fight, her determination was replaced with fear. At this moment she knew that she wouldn't live to see her daughter again. The shadows of the beating were on Barbs' skin and on her heart. The knowledge that she'd never see her loved ones again just broke something inside of her. She felt a heaviness, an unyielding sorrow that slowed her heart and robbed her of her once easy smile.

He got up and grabbed Barb's throat, raising Barb off the soiled floor. She couldn't breathe. Black dots began to fill her vision, and unimaginable pain filled her throat. She blindly started clawing desperately at Gerald. It was no use; her attempts were weak as her oxygen ran out.

He dropped Barb to the ground, knowing full well that she was too weak to move. He grabbed Barbs knife, and carefully ran his hand over the sharp blade.

"You know, it was a pity that you had to die, I really did have fun." He lightly smiled and looked at her admiringly.

She wanted to say the words out loud, but it was no use. The exhaustion and her injuries were overwhelming her. In one last feeble attempt, she slowly reached for the broken pistol beside her. She grabbed it; with a swift movement, she threw it. Time seemed to slow down as the pistol flew towards Gerald.

She missed.

He laughed; hatred clear in his gaze as he looked at the gun lying beside him. He knelt down on one knee and whispered into her ear.

"Your daughter is next."

In one quick movement he slit Barb's throat.

The blood didn't gush in a constant flow, but in time with the beating of Barb's heart. At first, it came thick and strong, flowing through his fingers as they clasped the ripped flesh. She felt the blood move over her throat, the thick fluid no warmer or cooler than her own skin. After a few moments more the blood was still leaving her rapidly paling flesh, but the pulses were slower, weaker.

Time itself had become irrelevant; the seconds could have been hours, or hours mere seconds. In that suspended moment, she was the eye of her own storm; but for that moment of perfect calm and mental clarity, she paid over and over in the years to come. Every quiet moment was spent playing the "what if" game in her mind. Her heartbeats slowed, and she whispered her last final words.

"You won't win."

She surrendered her mind to the night.