The Mouse and The Monarch

18

~MOUSE~

The dimly lit warehouse echoed with the metallic clatter of bullets bouncing off concrete.

The man holding her by the throat pressed his gun to her head.

She jerked away as he pulled the trigger, the bullet barely bouncing past her.

"Suka!" Bitch. The man screamed at her and threw her to the ground.

Her back hit the concrete and she let out a pained sound as he delivered a swift kick to her stomach.

"Fuck, Zero do something!" she heard Roze scream as the woman fired shots around the room.

Ophelia lay on the cold, unforgiving floor, the rough surface biting into her back.

Above her, the figure covered in a black balaclava exerted his strength, his foot coming down and pressing on her throat.

The stench of sweat and desperation clung to the air.

Ophelia's vision blurred as panic clawed at her chest.

She gasped for air, her lungs burning with the desperate need for oxygen.

The cold steel of the gun looked back down at her as he aimed at her head.

Her wide eyes locked onto the man's face, his features distorted by a mask that concealed any trace of humanity.

He wasn't human.

Just a few feet away, Zero crouched behind the sea container, his dark eyes on her.

Ophelia watched as he grasped his pistol in a white knuckle grip.

Sweat dripped down his forehead, and his breath came in ragged bursts.

"Fuck, he's going to shoot her!" Zero's scream cut through the tense air, a guttural mix of panic and rage.

Their eyes met again and Ophelia watched as the decision crossed Zero's face.

Without a second thought, he threw himself into the line of fire.

Roze screamed as Zero crouched and aimed at the man above Ophelia.

Determination etched across his face, his fingers squeezing the trigger.

The sharp crack of gunfire echoed through the cavernous space, the muzzle flashes briefly illuminating the darkness.

Bullets whizzed through the air, tearing into crates and sending splinters flying.

The assailant above Ophelia jerked as the projectiles struck him and he screamed as the bullet sunk into his shoulder.

Momentarily losing his hold on her throat.

With a swift, decisive motion, Ophelia lifted her legs, wrapping them around the assailant's neck like a vice and pulling herself up with ease.

The pain in her wound screamed in protest but she ignored it as she delivered a swift punch to his nose and wrestled the gun from his hand.

With lightning speed, her hands shot out, fingers grasping the man's arm that held the deadly weapon, with a sharp twist she felt the bones under her fingers break.

The man screamed in agony as the gun dropped to the floor.

A deafening gunshot rang out, the bullet grazing past her with a hair's breadth, leaving her pulse pounding in her ears.