MIDNIGHT STEALER

PROLOGUE

Warning: This story contains mature content, including violence and the use of firearms. Reader discretion is advised.

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In a dark and quiet place only a light pole gives light here there is a figure of a man standing and leaning in front of a black Chevrolet Caramo. After a few seconds he took out a cigarette and a lighter then lit it and started smoking. At the same time as he exhaled, he closed his eyes as he felt the coolness of the breeze.

When he got fed up, he quickly threw away the cigarette he was holding because even though he was halfway through it, he stepped on it and kicked it aside.

He let out a deep sighed and decided to go back inside his car but as soon as he took the first step he received a notification so he immediately stopped and his face was filled with wonder because what time was it and who was going to text him? at that time, on the other hand, he decided to take out his cellphone from his skinny pants pocket and when he opened his cellphone, he saw an unexpected message and immediately looked around. The surprise on his face was immediately replaced by fear.

Unknown

Time is ticking, our contract will end in 20 minutes before midnight and when it's already end and you still haven't paid all of your debt, say "Hello" to San Pedro and tell him to put you in hell.

He tightened his grip on his cellphone and quickly stepped closer to the driver's door of his Black Chevrolet Camaro and was about to open the door when suddenly a dazzling light hit him so he closed his eyes and quickly blocked his hand at his face to take a peek but it only took a few seconds for him to receive the notification again so he immediately looked at it which added to his fear.

Unknown

RUN MR. VALIX! RUN!

He quickly opened the door to the driver's seat and immediately got in, then he hurriedly turned on the engine and started it.

The air crackled with adrenaline as the Chevrolet Camaro screeched backwards down the deserted highway, its tires smoking in protest. The Man, his face contorted in a mask of fear, desperately tried to escape the relentless pursuit of the Ducati NCR M16, its powerful engine roaring like an enraged beast.

A sense of dread gripped the man's heart as he realized that the Ducati was gaining on him. He had thought he was safe, that the winding roads and dense forests had provided him with a cloak of anonymity. But he was wrong. The woman, her eyes blazing with determination, had tracked him down, her Ducati weaving through traffic like a phantom.

As the Camaro lurched backward around a sharp bend, the woman on the Ducati took her shot. With a practiced hand, she raised the gun holstered on her thigh and fired, the bullet piercing the rear tire of the Camaro with a deafening pop. The car swerved violently, its wheels losing traction on the asphalt.

The Camaro spun out of control , its tires screeching and smoking as it careened towards a towering oak tree but before that the man quickly opened the driver's door and jumped out. The man braced for impact, his eyes wide with terror. The crash was brutal, the Camaro crumpling like a tin can against the unforgiving bark of the tree.