The White Shadow 1: The Dancer

Chapter 5

"Care to dance?"

Deja vu, Diane thought, shuddering. She pushed her doubts to the back of her mind and raised her right hand, carrying her pistol, and aimed swiftly at the Dancers neck. She couldn't risk aiming at the head, her mask might be bulletproof. Diane instantly squeezed the trigger, and heard a bang. There was a falling of limp cloth, and the Dancers clothes fell to the floor. But as Diane walked over, she saw that a corpse was nowhere to be found. So the Dancer was in direct affiliation with Verez, and had an ability. Ok, Diane thought, now to find Darryll and let him figure out the plan. She lowered her gun and dashed up the steps ahead of her two at a time, until she was atop the stage. She spent some time observing the stage floor for some kind of trapdoor to no avail. It only took the Dancer a few seconds to kidnap him, and there had been no screaming. Therefore a sedative had been used, and more importantly, There had to have been more than one person, after all, a sedated person weighed a lot, more than one person could lift. In am instant, Diane had a clear picture in her head as to what happened behind the curtains. Darryll, trying with his gun to open the door, had been ambushed when several men went through the door, but had no time to scream when someone sedated him...
Wait, if Darryll had been sedated, it must have been from behind, therefore, Diane realised, There must be another entrance to the stage. Or even worse-
Diane whipped around to come face to face with a man in a fedora and pinstripe suit, with a needle in his hand. His eyes filled with shock as Diane thrust the barrel of her gun towards his head, before kicking him in the shin while he was distracted. He yelped in shock, falling down onto his knees and then his shoulder, crying in pain. Diane shot him twice, once in each leg, and the man's cries grew louder with each bullet. He rolled over in agony, shuffling his damaged legs in a frail attempt to stand up and run away. Diane pointed the gun at his head, "Where are your colleagues?" Her question was brief and harsh, however, the man just shook his head. Diane figured he probably had allies hidden elsewhere. As if on cue, she felt a heavy blow in the back of her head, and she fell forward, stumbling over her victims body. She turned around to see two more people in hats and suits. Goons, as Darryll had called them. She aimed her gun, but heard another noise behind her. She dodged to her right, and came face to face with another goon. This one swung a large hammer at her, but he was slow, and Diane easily ducked his attack. Seeing an opportunity to vanish under the man's attack, she donned her cloak, and leaped through his legs. She rolled out the other end, and saw three men, all confused, searching every direction for their target. Diane took aim, and shot the hammer wielder in the back of his head, and he fell limp immediately, crumpling to the floor like a paper doll. The other two man swiveled around, but Diane was already right beside them. She swung her gun arm hard, and it connected with the first man's neck. He screamed, stumbling back. Diane aimed between eyes, but was thrown off by a blow from the other man, shorter with blonde hair, straight to her gut. She staggered, and the first man came running back. Diane couldn't activate her cloak now, she was still a little visible when cloaked, and she wouldn't get far. Instead, as the first man came like he was about to attack again, she jammed the gun into his side, and took not of how many bullets were in her gun. Two were in that guys legs, which left thirteen. More than enough. She began firing rapidly, unloading several bullets into the man's side. With each shot his cries grew louder, and he fell to his knees in agony, clutching his bleeding wound. The other man made a frantic dash, but without any more distractions, Diane comfortably aimed her gun one final time, and fired. The man stopped, and Diane moved to the side, letting him fall where he stood, on his face. Diane let the magazine fall in the pool of blood that flooded the stage, and aimed the final bullet in the chamber at a man trying to pull himself and his failing legs away. Better to put him out of his misery.
Bang.
And so there was one, on his knees and drenched his blood that spread outward over his blouse, gripped in his shaking hand. He sobbed uncontrollably in his pain, and looked up at the monster with the gun in her hand. She sighed, and dropped the gun. She then moved away, and when she came back, she held a large hammer, handle of wood, large iron head as wide as a tennis ball, and much heavier. She threw it up and down in her hand, towering over the bleeding, sobbing man, and asked, "Where can I find my partner?"
The man clenched his eyes, "The Dancer will kill me..." Were his quiet, broken words. Diane swung the hammer, and the man flinched away, his tears growing heavier, but it landed on Diane's shoulder, as she said, "She may kill you, but I can do much, much worse."