Calculated Coincidence

Twenty One

LIAM SMITH

My steel grip on the steering wheel turns my knuckles white. My heartbeat picks up with each thought of what I'd do to the stupid, stupid man who thought he'd get away with hurting my love. Once I get to the address, I almost jump out the car, fuelled by adrenaline pumping through my veins.

Nearing the shabby house in a poor area of the city, I spot the tall figure, hiding in the shadows. Ah, these are Hunter's vibes. Dark, dreadful and dangerous.

"So, what'd he do to drag you into these parts of the city?" The mountain of muscles says when I reach him.

Of course he's dressed in all black, a bag on his shoulder, which I'm guessing is full of weapons and things of those sorts.

"Thought he could mess with what's mine." I simply reply. Hunter hums.

We make our way to the front door and Hunter wastes no time, grabbing the handle. Unsurprisingly it's locked but when I see Hunter tense his muscles, getting ready to pull the door out of its hinges, I know it won't stand a chance against this reincarnation of Hercules. Or Hulk. Yeah, Hulk's a better comparison.

I go to help him when the piece of wood is ripped away but he just throws it on the ground without a second thought. I expect to see at least some perspiration on his forehead but he just wipes his hands together to get rid of the dust.

Hunter glances at me and gestures towards the entrance. I nod and make my way in, deciding on not commenting on his barbaric ways.

A foul smell of cigarette smoke and sweat attacks me. Searching through the rooms, all I can see is dirt, rubbish lying around and stains on the walls. We find the bruised man sitting in an armchair in front of an old television, snoring with an empty beer bottle in hand.

Hunter opens his bag and grabs a rope, turning to the man with it in hand. Probably planning on tying him to the chair or tying his hands.

"No need." I stop him.

The man nonchalantly shrugs and leans against the wall, waiting for the scene in front of him to unravel. I make my way to my prey, which is dressed in worn out jeans and a dirty wife beater. I slap him in the face.

"Wake up." I demand. "Remember me?" I ask, once he's opened his eyes.

"Wh-What?" He mutters, blinking. "What are you doing in my house? I'll call the police!" The bastard slurs louder, registering who's in front of him.
He tries to stand up from the armchair but falls back onto his ass.

"Yeah, I'd like to see you try with moves like that. You get drunk off your ass everyday or is this a special occasion?" I drawl, amused by the waste of space before me.

"Get out!" The man spits, swinging at me with the beer bottle.

"Ah, ah, ah," I sing, grabbing his wrist with full strength, causing him to drop the glass. "Not so fast. We're going to have some fun first." I smile.

My hands shoot out to grab him by his shirt and I forcefully pull him to his feet, throwing him onto the dirty, stained carpet. While he shouts, Hunter picks him up by the collar which has started to tear and stands him on his feet.

"Come on, man. Put your guard up." The tall man instructs, smacking his arm.

While I watch Hunter playing coach, I know he's finished when he harshly slaps him on the shoulders. Probably wanting to hurt him more than motivate.

The fucker flinches from the pain and then tries running up on me. Fear and anger flashing in his eyes. He releases a war cry and a rush of adrenaline courses through my body. I dodge him in the last moment and he doesn't stop soon enough, causing him to fall into the wall.

"Do a little better, this is child's play." Hunter moans in boredom.
Turning around, the drunk man stumbles. Hunter walks up to him and hands him a pocket knife. 

"There you go, now you stand a slight chance." He pats his sweaty back.

"Hunter whose side are you on?" I ask, tilting my head and rolling up my sleeves.

"I'm on the side of justice." He gestures, a corner of his lips turns up in a malicious smirk.
Liar. He's on the side of sadism.

The drunkard throws himself at me, flinging the knife around, mistakenly thinking he's using the opportunity of us having a conversation. I back up and dodge his attempts, successfully kicking at his knee. He shouts and falls to the floor. The knife landing far away, long forgotten.

"This is for laying your dirty hands on her." Sneering, I step on the hand that pushed Alessia to the ground, hearing bones crack.

His scream greats my ears. A song about seeking revenge and avenging loved ones. It flows through my body, slightly taming the fire inside me, which is burning with the need for violence against this scum that's kneeling before me.

"This is for making her sad because you fucking mistreated your animal." I spit, punching him in the face.

He falls back and I go to grab the pocket knife from the floor. While Hunter pushes him back up, I bring the weapon to his grimy neck.

"Open your mouth." I say, pressing the blade to his skin, as a threat.
He reluctantly listens. "Stick your tongue out."

When he does, I grab it and bring the knife to it. He shouts and leans away frantically, realising what I'm about to do. Hunter grabs his jaw, forcing him to stay still and open his mouth.

I grab his tongue once again and slice into it, cutting the muscle away from the body. Warm blood floods his mouth, the scarlet liquid dripping down his jaw and my hand.

He shouldn't have spoken to her.

His heavy breathing causes blood and saliva sputtering everywhere. All sorts of noises coming from him.

Shouldn't have even looked her way.

Once I finish, his shouting turns into incoherent moaning, his tearful eyes lolling back. Hunter lets him go and the man falls onto his side. I throw his tongue beside him.

Unclenching my jaw, I breathe in, trying to steady my erratic heartbeat. I look at the bloody view before me and I know that this is what'll happen to anyone who crosses my darling Alessia. Bruised up, mutilated, barely alive, in a puddle of blood.

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*author's note*

Thank you for 28k!!<3