Lr stories part 1: Power royale

Chapter 50: Final Hunt Part 3

The battlefield had shrunk to the size of a small town, every inch of it soaked with blood and desperation. William Dangerfield and Angelo Vasquez could barely catch their breath, the weight of their survival pressing down on them. They had run far, but not far enough.

The sky above them crackled with energy, a reminder that time was running out. The grand finale was upon them. The announcers' voices echoed through the battlefield, a grim reminder of the spectacle they were part of.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Announcer 1's voice boomed, full of manic glee. "This is it! The final moments! Will William and Angelo survive the wrath of Benito Garcia, or will this be the end of their journey?"

Announcer 2 chimed in, more somber. "This is no ordinary fight, folks. Benito Garcia's power allows him to bend space itself. The closer you get, the smaller your world becomes—literally. And now, with Angelo already injured, this might be the most challenging battle our heroes have ever faced."

Angelo stumbled, clutching his shoulder where his arm had once been. Blood dripped steadily from the stump, his face pale but determined. "We have to keep moving," he panted. "We can't let him catch up."

William nodded, though his mind was elsewhere. He was trying to think of a strategy, anything that could give them a fighting chance against Benito. But nothing came to him. The reality was, Benito was stronger, faster, and deadlier than either of them had ever imagined.

They ducked into an abandoned warehouse, the last refuge they could find. The walls were lined with rusting machinery, remnants of a time when this place was alive with industry. Now, it was a tomb, and they were the prey.

"William," Angelo said, his voice shaking. "If I don't make it—"

"Don't," William snapped. "We're getting out of this, both of us. I'm not letting you die here."

Before Angelo could respond, the air in the warehouse seemed to ripple. A distortion, like heat waves on a summer day, but more sinister. Benito was close.

"Showtime," Benito's voice echoed through the air, dripping with malice. The sound sent a shiver down their spines.

Then, without warning, Benito was in front of them. His movements were so fast that it was as if he'd materialized out of thin air. His eyes locked onto Angelo, and a wicked grin spread across his face.

"Poor Angelo," Benito said, his voice mocking. "You should have stayed down."

William tried to summon his power, to form a shield of metal between them, but Benito was too quick. In the blink of an eye, he was behind Angelo, one hand clamped around his neck, the other holding his severed arm like a trophy.

"Let him go!" William shouted, desperation seeping into his voice.

But Benito ignored him. He was focused entirely on Angelo now, his grip tightening around the young man's throat.

"Do you know what happens at the quantum level, Angelo?" Benito whispered, his tone almost academic. "At the beginning of the universe, during the Big Bang, everything was so close together, so condensed. Particles, atoms, all crammed into a tiny, singular point. And then—BOOM! It all exploded outward, creating everything you see today. But what if I could reverse that? What if I could bring everything back to that singular point?"

Angelo gasped for air, his vision blurring. William lunged forward, but before he could get close, Benito's power surged. Space around Angelo warped, crushing down on him, and with a sickening crack, Benito began to rip him apart.

Angelo's scream tore through the warehouse as Benito wrenched off his remaining limbs with a brutal efficiency. Blood splattered across the floor, the sound of flesh tearing and bones snapping filling the air. Benito's face remained impassive, his eyes focused and cold.

William was frozen in horror, unable to look away as Benito finished his gruesome task. He split Angelo's head in two with a swift, effortless motion, the halves falling to the floor with a wet thud.

The announcers' voices cut through the aftermath, one excited, the other somber.

"Angelo Vasquez is down, folks!" Announcer 1 exclaimed, almost giddy with excitement. "What a display of power from Benito Garcia! This man is unstoppable!"

Announcer 2's voice was softer, a touch of regret in his tone. "And now, only two remain. William Dangerfield and Benito Garcia. The final confrontation is upon us."

Benito turned to William, wiping Angelo's blood from his hands. "Your turn, William," he said, his voice dripping with dark promise.

William's heart pounded in his chest as he faced Benito. He knew this was it—the final battle, the moment of truth. But as he stared into the eyes of the man who had just torn his friend apart, all he could feel was a cold, creeping fear.

To be continued.