FIRE [FIRST DRAFT]

Chapter 12: Brawling with Immortals

 The gun fired, bullets tunnelled through Benjamin's skull. But still it was not over. Stefan lowered his gun, knowing that he had some time before Benjamin would get up again, waiting impatiently for his limbs to cease hurting for a meagre moment.

Aimee and Abba were in a skirmish of their own, their movements fast and their strikes relentless, merciless. For a moment, Aimee was fixated by Benjamin and the unfathomable fact that he would just wake up in a few minutes, when he should have been dead. Abba punched Aimee in the jaw, and then sent a heel into her stomach. She fell to the floor, coughed pain, but got up quickly, and the next hit was hers. She charged for Abba, who threw her fist out for another punch, but missed. Aimee grabbed that arm, went under it like they were dancing, and then jabbed her elbow into Abba's spine. Her kick swiftly met Abba's back as well, and she staggered forward, subtly irritated.

They went on like this for a while, each getting in their fair share of clouts. Stefan watched them go on with an expression of both anxiety and belligerence, wishing he could just assist, wishing the day could just end its games so that he and his friends could go home. He pulled himself up with the wall and leaned against it, realising that he was yet again one-legged. He couldn't even remember how he had injured his leg in the first place. Benjamin was getting up again, too. Tediously, Stefan aimed his gun, pressed his finger to the trigger, and it clicked. It was empty. He cursed.

Benjamin stepped nearer to him. Stefan actually found him quite scary in the way he spoke so little and seemed to judge you with every glance, he was almost inhuman. Oh, and he had unnatural self-healing abilities. He drove his fist into Stefan's abdomen, keeping it there until he was choking on saliva and blood. Then, desperately, Stefan wrapped his fingers around Benjamin's throat, red-faced and breathless. But his eyes were not focussed on Benjamin; they looked past him and met the sight of Aimee as she was taken up the staircase near the elevator, squirming in Abba's grip. Stefan threw Benjamin and himself onto the ground with brute force and took out his combat knife. Without releasing his throat, he took his knife to his opponent's Adam's apple.

"Give up, Benjamin."

"I c-can't," he wheezed, raising his hand and pressuring Stefan's throat with his thumb.

They ogled each other, their eyes narrowing, their faces getting pinker and their air pipes constricting as they struggled, like a Chinese finger trap, until they could not bear it anymore. Stefan fell to one side – his knife was still on Benjamin's neck as precaution – and yet Benjamin's somewhat evolved lungs allowed him to recover swiftly. Before Stefan could resist, his knife had been yanked from his hand and cast aside, and an elbow had flown into his abdomen.

They stood up; Benjamin first and with greater ease. Stefan stumbled, for a second he was seeing double. He was breathless, and in this state, was kicked and punched continuously – his nose and lower lip bled and he could taste it on his tongue.

In a blurry gaze, Stefan saw his knife on the ground, but it was far from where they were. He cursed again in his head; why did he have to run out of ammo? And then he thought that maybe that empty hunk of metal was not so useless after all. He pulled it out from its holster and hurled it into Benjamin's forehead, and he bled. He contemplated what he was doing, he thought it was barbaric, but at the moment, it was the only way he could win the fight. Still, he hesitated now and again; only striking once Benjamin struck, and he evaded Benjamin more than he attacked him.

In that moment, he remembered something Buckley had once said to him; the reason Gavin was so much better than him was because he was more focused than he was. He never hesitated.

When Benjamin started to look the way Stefan felt, he dropped his gun. They stood, panting, catching their breaths, but Stefan knew not to take any chances. He had almost forgotten his injuries, but was reminded of them when he gave Benjamin one last kick to his gut – trying with difficulty not to concentrate on his own pain – causing Benjamin to trip backward and fall onto the floor, curled into whichever position was least uncomfortable. Stefan retrieved his knife and wiped the blood and sweat from his face onto the back of his hand. Soon, his blade was once again on Benjamin's throat, as he demanded he tell him where Abba had taken Aimee. For a moment, all he got was a look of utter distaste, but it faded and he was answered. Aimee and Abba were possibly ten floors above them by then, and counting.

Stefan pierced Benjamin's bicep with his knife – pinning him to the ground, endeavouring to ignore his scream of agony – and walked away, reporting to Valerie through his earpiece. He told her where Aimee was and that they had been separated.

"We'll find her. By the way, all the elevators have been shut down; we have to use the stairs."

Stefan knew that Valerie and the others would reach Aimee first anyway; his leg was injured and it was painful enough to walk, let alone climb flights of stairs. He only hoped she was okay – well, as okay as possible. As thoughts of her soared through his mind, his ears registered a strident and unexpected sound.

A gunshot.