Forced To Kill *NCIS Fan-Fiction*

Chapter 8

*Avivi's POV*

I sat alone.

The only thing that kept me company was the autumn breeze and the occasional bystander.

You must be wondering where I am? Last you heard from me... I was in the warehouse? Yeah, the warehouse.

I could lie to you and say that I know exactly where I am and maybe even make up a story about how I got here. But you don't want to hear any of that... okay maybe some of you do... get over it.

Seriously.

I will be honest with you... I have from the beginning... well as far as you know, I have... Anyways.

To be honest. I am not very sure about where I am at the moment. Maybe I finally died... Maybe I can finally move past all this crap that has been going on...

Ah, who am I kidding. I am not that lucky. I never have been, and sure as hell never will be.

Which leaves only one option... There is only one reason I would be in such a blissful place... besides being dead.

I must be dreaming. That has to be it... Yeah, that's it. I am dreaming... There you have it. Location explained... Sort of...

All my life I have dreamed of the past... The hellish life I have endured thus far. So why would all that change now? I would remember a calm moment like this. I would remember not being afraid. I would remember not having to run... Why do I always have to run?

What moment is this supposed to be? It is not my past coming back to haunt me... I am definitely still in the warehouse... I would remember leaving.

The future maybe? But do I even have a future? Honestly, after the things I have done... People want to kill me. How could I ever have a future so calm?

How could I have a future at all...?

"Hey kid."

My thoughts snapped back into reality... okay dreamish reality...

I looked around for the source of the voice, but I couldn't find it. There were no bystanders, no more autumn breeze... gosh I liked that breeze...

"Kid!"

Slowly I stood up from the bench, and having no where else to look... I looked up. "God...?"

"You're gonna be meeting God if you don't get the hell up!" 

God is not very nice...

"You have three seconds before I call the police." The voice declared.

Dang... even God has to use a telephone... does he get better service then everyone else...?

"One."

Why would God have to call the police...?

"Two.."

Wouldn't he just smite me himself...?

"Thr..."

Unless I am completely out of my mind... that is defiantly not God... What the hell am I thinking? My head is weird when I have normal dreams... I want my memory dreams back.

...Wait no I don't!

***

"Thr..."

I tried to jump up and grab the guy that was currently hovering over me... Let us just say that the idea worked out better in my head... but it worked out a little more realistic than that.

I tried to jump at the guy in the blue janitor's suit, but my shot three times self couldn't get off the ground. This my friends was a new kind of hurt. It was a 'I can't get up and grab this guy by the throat' kind of hurt... Ever had one of those...?

So I tried to get up and failed... miserably...

So my plan to hide out in the warehouse to get my strength back...? Not exactly a great plan. I forgot to take into account that maybe this warehouse was owned... I blame the blood loss!

Then again, you wouldn't think that this place is ever cleaned by looking at it... just saying...

"Come on, kid. I don't want to have to call the police on you. I don't want any trouble... You need to find somewhere else to sleep."

"Okay... Sorry, sir." My reply came out weak and surprisingly sarcasm free. I must be going crazy.

Somehow, I managed to use the wall to pull myself up to my feet and grabbed the bag I had gotten from the pharmacy.

The man looked at me strangely as I staggered to my uneasy feet "Are you okay? Do you need me to get you some help?"

I looked up at him and gave my best, but apparently not good enough smile. "No, I'm fine." I took a shaky step away from the man, not doing so well trying to stay upright.

"But you're bleeding!" The man stated, taking a step towards me.

I glanced down at my arm to find that, sure enough, I was indeed bleeding. I must have pulled a stitch... " Oh, that... That's just a scratch. I should be going... I need to get home." 

I shuffled away from the man and he reached out to stop me...

Big mistake.

Reflex kicked in and it no longer mattered that I was weak and probably bleeding out. I caught the man's wrist and pulled him close. I struck his throat as I pulled him in. Leaving him on the ground, gasping for air.

I turned on my heel and shuffled out of that warehouse as fast as I could. Turns out that I was on 31st street. Well at least that is one question answered tonight...

Next bread winner is: What am I going to do about my arm?

What am I going to do, in general?

I think my arm is worse then I first gathered. I am not even sure how I pulled a stitch... all I did was sit on the ground until I passed out... Did I even pull a stitch?

I pulled my hand away from my bloodied arm. There has to be a reason it's bleeding like this. I thought I got it to stop. Maybe I am a restless sleeper. How did I not notice this sooner?

I lost my footing on the sidewalk, nearly landing myself in the street.

I need to do something about this... before it gets any worse. But where am I supposed to go? Raphael and a lot more people are looking for me... and I am pretty sure that majority of those people want me dead.

A group of adults stumbled out of a bar a little ways up the sidewalk. They were staggering in their drunken state, but a few were actually moderately sober.

Now you must be wondering why I would point out such an unimportant thing, right? Well it is not as unimportant as you might think, because this happens...

I continue to shuffle along the sidewalk, growing weaker with each step. Maybe I really did pull a stitch... because I don't know why I would be so weak. Yes, I got shot three times... I have had worse... Maybe I am not as cut out for this as I used to be... Actually who would be?

I managed to get maybe a few steps past those drunken adults before it happens. My weakness finally caught up. All the adrenaline was gone, my systems were on empty and just gave out. I was unable to do anything. My body just shut down and I dropped like a bag of rocks, just a few steps from those drunken adults.

The last thing I remember hearing was one of adults scream in shock and someone state, " Call an ambulance!"

I guess I was going to the hospital after all. The self debate  didn't matter much in the long run I suppose. I was soon going to be a sitting duck.

"Someone call an ambulance!"

****

Hello readers. Yes, I am sure this chapter was a bit different then the other ones. I hope you enjoyed it as much as you have the others if not more so.

Just want you all to know: Thanks for the support and thanks for reading. It means a lot.

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