Charade Games | Completed

Chapter 39: Lion Crest

A/N: Chapter 39! Happy reading!!

1987 Milan, Italy

I can't breathe.

I can barley see.

The air choked back in my throat as my fingers tried to pry away the man's grip in vain.

Gritting my teeth together, the space between my vision and darkness began shrinking.
It grew smaller and smaller, until it left only a hinge of white in the corner of my eyes.

I couldn't really remember what I sounded like.

Within my struggles for consciousness, how desperate was I?

I don't know. I couldn't recall a single thing.

I couldn't hear anything. Just the passing seconds of my airway growing smaller and smaller.

With my vision fading and the darkness already conquering; my fingers grew numb while the man's grip grew tighter.

Clamping down on my teeth, I ripped my fingers into his hands as I muster up the last bit of strength in my bones.

Pulling both his arms, I based my strength into my knees as I twisted his frame.

The sudden surge of force knocked him down with his back pummling to the ground.
But that only startled him, not enough to injure him.

However, before he had the chance to stand on his feet; I gripped his two arms and pinned his head down onto the rough floor.
The side of his face pushed into the carpet as he gritted his teeth together in defiance.

Using his elbow, he knocked against my arm.

My vision was still fuzzy, my limbs a bit weaker.

Twisting his arm from underneath the man dived for me with a retractable dagger into my flesh.

I avoided the blade, but the tint of the edge slid over a small patch of flesh agaisnt my neck.

Diving for me the second time, his actions grew sloppy. He left an opening from the attack by exposing his arm and chest in my direction.

Seizing the oppurtunity, I tackled his arm before dislocating the shoulder blades. Pressing his arm and twisting it on the opposite direction, I forced him down with his limb bending in numerous ways.

A sharp tint before a crackle followed into the empty space of air.
His anguish cries filled the room as I gripped the blade from him.

His grip was weak.

Incomparable to before. 

But the man was persistant. Driving his fury and agony towards me, this time--my patience really has dwindled.

Yanking his head and slamming it to the floor, I balled my fist before directly striking down his throat.

The impact choked him of the life he clutched to; the pain collided with his blood and flooded his mouth.