Dishonor From Nightmares

Chapter 27

"Hey Michael, are there any new missions? I've been stuck in here for ages." He asked the greasy ginger-haired man. The older male turned to look at him, revealing a burn scar along one side of his face reaching up to his deep blue eyes. "Go ask your own leader. I don't need my team's men dying of bullet wounds." He growled, and Josh narrowed his eyes at the accusation. "I didn't fucking kill Conrad. I'm still working here, ain't I? They would've fired me. It wasn't my gun." He snapped back, stepping forward, causing Michael to stand closer to him. "Bullshit. They've only kept you around because of your strength. We all know something is going on with you, freak. For one, I can't wait to be the one to put a bullet in between your eyes just like you did with Conrad, bastard." Michael spat as his shove sent Josh reeling backward, the force of the impact ratcheting up the tension coursing through their veins. Gritting his teeth, Josh's anger flared and flickered, a volatile emotion that fueled his instinct to leave the confrontation behind.

Michael's intent was unmistakable, desperate to bridge the chasm between them. His that blurred the lines between words and action.

A kick, fast and precise, landed squarely against Michael's head, stopping his fist and sending him to the ground.

Another assailant lunged, their fingers ensnaring Josh's hair in a desperate grip. A grunt escaped Josh as he fought to retain his equilibrium, his instincts firing with precision. Like a dancer in a chaotic ballet, he met the assailant's attack with a ferocity mirrored their own.

A headbutt echoed like a crack of thunder, the force of the impact reverberating through both Josh's skull and his opponent's. The moment of disorientation was brief, and with a fluid twist, Josh seized the upper hand, their head now a makeshift handle.

A dodge, an elbow strike, a whirlwind of motion defied words' confines. In a whirl of violence, the assailant fell before the combined force of Josh's determination and skill. The skirmish was a tempestuous dance, a flurry of motion that seemed to bend time and space to its will.

Then, a momentary lull—a glance downward, a heartbeat's pause. The glint of a critical card caught Josh's eye. Grinning, he seized the opportunity, his fingers wrapping around the card with a triumphant fervor. An unexpected kick to his leg, however, sent him falling.

Josh suddenly saw himself falling much higher and threw a wooden floor, crashing into it and slamming into the ground, hearing a woman scream in panic and watching insulation float down around him as he sat up and looked around, confused. He noticed a woman with short chestnut hair and a male with a blue beard and medium-length hair holding a drone remote. He blinked, grunting softly, stumbling, and grabbed onto a couch, trying to steady himself. "What the fuck... where am I?" He asked, looking at the two with his confused expression matching theirs. The male first broke the silence, clearing his throat after a while. "Um... my name is Timur, and this is my wife, Kristīne. This is our home, and you've fallen through our roof." As his eyes traveled down to Josh's badge, he said, "You're a Foundation member, right? My sister Aysha used to work there, and my parents before they died." Josh slowly stood up, stumbling, and brushed off his camo pants, wrinkling his nose at the stains on his white tank top before hearing the name "Aysha? Wait, I've seen her before." He said, bringing out the badge he got from Aysha. "She stopped me from killing a werewolf she was with and told me to search for my own stuff. Then, these golden scars started appearing on my body, and I appeared in your living room." He sighed, frowning, "I'm honestly not sure where I am. What state am I in?" He asked, looking back at him. "You in Texas. Got any broken bones? I'm unsure about the golden scars, but I can ask Aysha. I've been piloting her drones to watch over her, and we've been calling each other." "Shit... I was just in my Location in god fucking Oregon... Where is the nearest Foundation from here?" He asked, looking up at Timur stepping away from the rubble. "Well, one was here in Texas, but they closed it down. The closest would be site 88 in Alabama." Josh listened to Timur before grumbling, nodding softly. "Alright. Thank you, do you mind if I stay here for the night? I can clean this shit all up." "Sure, go ahead. I don't mind. I could get someone to clean it up for you if you want to instead look at some of Aysha's books she has." Josh hesitated, looking down at them before nodding and looking back at Timur. "Alright. I know the Foundation pays a lot but have them charge me, alright? I don't really need the money." He said before following Timur to his office.