Man's Best Friend [John Wick x Male Reader]

Chapter 6 - It Feels Damn Good

You paused a few meters away from the entrance, crouching behind some rusted machine. You aimed at the guard on the right, the bullet hitting the middle if his forehead and quickly did the same to the other guard, the bullet piercing his temple as he turned to look at his dead colleague.

Their guns made a harsh noise as they fell but even after waiting a few minutes, nobody came to investigate.

Going through the equivalent of the front door would have been fucking stupid, so you opted to climb the thankfully solid drain pipe going up the side of the barn. There was a single window frame with chicken wire covering it, nailed to the wood from the outside. You groaned softly in annoyance and pulled out your combat knife, slowly prying the nails out of the wood. Finally, with all eight removed, you threw the wire to the ground and climbed onto the wooden platform just below the window frame. You crouched, surveying your surroundings. There were mostly supplies up here, guns, food, etc. There didn't seem to be any guards up here - though you suppose it wasn't necessary. You had to act quickly though.

You approached the edge of the wooden platform, hiding behind a decrepit crate and looking down.

The victims were being held in literal cages, the guards loitering around in the middle. The barn was huge, though, which made things difficult. You'd have only a handful of shots before chaos erupted and then the captives' lives were in danger.

You'd have to lure them out of the barn.

You looked at the heavy wooden doors, your eyes landing on the small padlock attached to the wrought iron handle. You glanced at your pistol and shrugged. You've had worse strategies.

You aimed at the padlock and fired. The object burst into a flash of scrap metal and the sound immediately put the men on guard. A particularly foolish one approached the door near immediately, while another asked the other men if any of them were dumb enough to shoot inside.

Dumbass No.1, as you'd dubbed him, opened the door and gasped. He echoed the dead men's names and a few others ran forward, their hands clasped tightly around their rifles. You quietly climbed back out of window, landing in the ground with a dull thud that was masked by the guards' frantic mumbling and the cocking of their guns.

You hid behind the corner, mulling over your next move. You had a pistol, rifle and combat knife on you. You pat your pockets lightly and paused. Your pants pocket? What?

You unclasped it and pulled out the foreign object. You huffed near soundlessly in disbelief. A dog toy? Jesus you forgot you wore the fatigues to the park once. A genuinely moronic idea came over you.

You grasped the toy firmly and threw it a few meters in front of the panicked guards. It fell with a loud, mournful, squeak.

The guards paused, baffled, before venturing forward and examining the toy intently. There were about six guards out here and another four inside. They'd be easy pickings once all of these were dead.

You placed a new magazine in the Tariq and took a deep breath. You leaned around the corner. The two men on the far right made eye contact with you. You shot them before they could react. The ones on the left tried to turn around after seeing the carnage and you shot them too. You shot the one closest to the doorway in the knee and the one furthest from the door turned to run away, down the winding dirt road and towards John. You made an elaborate bow in John's direction and soon you heard a loud gun shot followed by a muted thud. You switched to the assault rifle.

At the injured guard's screams and the gunshot the other men came rushing out, unfortunately prepared for confrontation. The injured guard pointed in your direction and you hid behind the wall, running to the back of the barn and leaning around the corner once more. The guards came running at you single file and you gunned the first three down before the last one became wise. He also hid behind the corner, only his hand and gun visible as he tried to blindly fire at you. You aimed and shot his hand to ribbons. The man's screams echoed through the field.

You switched back to your pistol again, running up to the felled guard and kicking his gun away from him, despite him being unlikely to use it in this state. You looked up just to see the other injured guard aiming a handgun at you. Before you could react he screamed bloody murder as well, his hand now in a similar state to the other guard's.

You holstered your gun and grabbed them both by their collars, dragging them into the barn but keeping the doors open so that John could see inside. The barn was well lit, which meant that you could see the tortured looks on the women and children's faces in excruciating detail.

The wrought iron cages were locked through proper mechanisms rather than padlocks so shooting them wasn't an option. Well, that's why these two were alive.

"Keys?" You asked, your voice gruff. The men tried to wrestle from your grasp but eventually tired out, giving in to the fatigue brought on by the blood loss.

"Keys," you reiterated firmly. When harsh panting was your only answer you aimed at the first guard's uninjured knee, looking him dead in the eye. "Keys, asshole."

He looked about ready to cry. "Fuck! Fuck fine, they're in Alejandro's pockets."

You cocked your head, wordlessly asking him to elaborate. He pointed at one of the dead bodies, one of a tall, middle aged man. You kept your gun trained on them as you moved to the corpse, rifling through the pockets and finding both the bundle of keys and a wedding ring on a chain.

You tried to will yourself to feel remorse.

You couldn't. But killing didn't seem so fun anymore.

You turned to look in John's direction and made a slitting motion over your neck. The guard's disbelieving panic lasted only a few moments before their lifeless bodies slumped against each other.

You went from cage to cage, unlocking the gates. The victims didn't react positively, cowering away from you rather than running towards freedom. You noticed many of them were injured, burns, cuts, broken bones, sepsis.

You stood in the middle if the barn and addressed them while pulling out a burner phone. "I'll call the paramedics first. So that you won't have to be alone with the police. There'll be someone with sense to protect you at least."

There seemed to be a collective, silent sigh of relief.

The operator answered the call.

"Please there are women and children who need your help," you said, in a fake, panicked tone. Years of military espionage had made you a terrific actor, so they had no room to doubt you. "You're going to need multiple ambulances. All the men are dead, it looks like a scene straight out of The Punisher, it's fucked up. I don't know any first aid so please, please hurry."

You whined out the address before pausing dramatically and saying, "Oh God. Oh God I've gotta get out of here-" and firing a shot into the ground using the closest guard's gun. You let the call continue for a bit before ending it. You shoved the phone into your pants pocket, fished out the dahlia from your breast pocket and placed it in front of the two dead guards in the center of the barn. You crouched over the mountain of corpses in front of the barn and fished the blood stained dog toy out from underneath them, placing it back into your pocket.

Without another word, you ran towards John, moving the night vision scope away from your eye to see the self satisfied smile on his face.

What you do is wrong, yes.

But it feels damn good.