The Betrayal

Chapter 11 - 'Escape'

The assassin searched Pete's body, taking his phone and notes back to Pallantino. He returned and surged straight at me, placing his gun under my neck, aiming it so if he fired the bullet would go through my chin and right up through my head. I held back the tears and focused it on calmness and sanctuary. Before he could pull the trigger Pallantino shouted across,

"Leave him, they want him alive when we do it." He barked. I was silently relieved.

The assassin smacked the back of my head with his pistol twice, both strikes just as hard as the other. I felt the internal bruising and haemorrhaging instantly, but I didn't go down.

"Fuck sake just bloody go down!" He yelled, frustrated.

He lined up his shin with my face and connected a major kick to my nose, fracturing it and knocking me clean out. I woke up staring into Pete's lifeless eyes. The guards from the mansion were pouring gasoline and fuel over our bodies, creating a horrendous smell of death and decay. I glanced over to find Pallantino close, watching over us with two men armed with assault rifles by his side. He began pacing up and down puffing a cigarette in his mouth.

"I assume you've figured it out by now." He chuckled. "You see, we're a large organisation, with branches all over the globe. We have groups in America, France, Spain, Russia and many more. But nothing, no one, is as powerful as they are. If an unstoppable group of skilled killers with supernatural powers threatens any organisation with complete destruction, they'll do anything to survive. So, we struck a deal. We act as their eyes and ears above ground and they allow us to thrive. How do you think they found you in that apartment?" He sneered. "It was easy to get a bug into that place, and that Kelly was it? Jesus she was sexy, what a shame."

I roared a vile screech of pure anger at him, spitting blood at his feet. No more half measures. No more holding back my anger. If I got the opportunity, I was ready to viciously kill any one of these horrible snakes. He grinned gloriously and threw his cigarette down, lighting the trail of gasoline leading to our bodies. I glanced down to see the gun the assassin had used to kill Pete, still containing the bullets within the magazine. They were trying to get rid of every single piece of evidence. I'd never handled a real gun before, apart from when Aaron took me to firing ranges with BB guns in order to increase my aim and accuracy, training me up to one day join his sick cult. I'd also certainly never killed anyone before, but I badly wanted to. The anger returned the feeling and power to my limbs, I was mobile again. Now was my only chance to get away.

The poison must last longer on normal humans, but my strength made it wear off quicker than most. The guards were unaware of this, so I dashed forward into a roll and narrowly avoided the blazing inferno caused by the gasoline puddle connecting with the embers of Pallantino's cigarette. Pete's body became unrecognisable, but I couldn't lose focus. I rolled onto one knee and aimed the gun at the nearest guard. I wasn't confident enough to shoot for his head, so I shot one bullet at his legs, hoping he would fall to the ground in pain. I wanted to punish him, make him suffer. The bullet flew out of the gun and pierced his knee cap, causing him to wince in pain but not crippling him. I wasn't expecting the sheer pain of the recoil however, so I recklessly fired again and again before he could aim his rifle at me. Five of the six rounds punctured and riddled his chest, showering his blood out of his back. My first kill, it felt spectacular to punish those who deserved. I wanted more. I clambered up from the ground, reloaded the clip with my aching wrists, and hid behind the door. I waited, back to the wall, for the hesitant patrolling guard to come in and investigate. He opened the door towards him and stepped in, revolted on discovery of his dead friend. I used the weight of the gun to my advantage, swinging the grip harshly towards his throat. It connected brutally, making a horrid noise and crushing his wind pipe. He dropped his rifle instantly, collapsing to the ground grasping his broken throat. I had only one goal in mind, one phrase to keep me focused and motivated. No mercy. I stamped his face the hardest I could, multiple times. Punishing the deserved fed my powers, and I felt my strength increase. I took his rifle, knife, ammo and vest, and left the room.