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"Police are now opening up on what they have on this case. They say with this information released to the public, this criminal can and will be brought to justice. The FBI has been using everything in their power to track The Machine. 'Every criminal has a motive, even if they are a sociopath', they say. The following information is as stated..."
"ARGH!" I hurl my chair at the tv, sending the tv to millions of pieces on the blood-stained carpet. My fists are clenched up, my nails digging into my skin. I stand there, seething in rage. I open my fists, looking down at my bloody palms. This is the third time this happens this week.
I look back over at the mess, shrugging it off.
*BANG BANG BANG*
I look over at my door in panic, taking a step back. Who is it?
"FBI, OPEN UP!" My door breaks off its hinges, wood splinters flying across my room. I'm tackled to the ground, hitting my back on the table. I see riot shields, guns, and- wait. Guns. I try to get up, but then I feel a searing pain go through my back. I try to move my hands, but they're handcuffed.
"Michael Krey, you are under arrest! Keep your hands behind your back or else you will be shot! 147, scout the house!"
"Roger."
I chuckle quietly, knowing they're going to find them.
"You're late, Carl." I say eerily, feeling everyone's eyes on me. I look up and see s gun to my forehead. I laugh as I'm pulled from the ground and shoved toward the door.
"What's so funny, Krey?!" Carl shouts, putting his gun to my head once more. I make eyes contact with him, smiling. He pushes me against the wall, demanding I speak. I look over his shoulder, into my hallway. I shut my eyes, and talk.
"Checkmate."
"What? What did you do?!" Carl was yelling at me, panic lacing his voice. I turned to run out the door, and just as I do, the building explodes. I fall over, getting hit by falling debris. This won't phase me- nothing ever has.
My handcuffs are off, now and I push myself off the burning ground. I brush the ashes off of me, coughing as they fly around. I start heading towards the exit again, but then I realize I don't know which direction that is. I choose to go right, but I turn to walk that way and something- no, someone, drags me down.
"You aren't getting away that easy, Krey." Carl. He lived. I let myself be dragged down the hall by him, looking for something, anything, I can use as a weapon. The only thing that will pass is burning wood.
"Hey, this is violating my rights, you know," I say nonchalantly. I look up to see his reaction, smirking when he glares at me. I sure do love this game.
"Yeah, and you violated almost every law, so your rights don't matter." Gosh, way to put it, Carl. He stops for a second, but that's all the time I need to kick his stomach and get up. He grunts as he falls toward the fire, catching himself on a piece of brick. I look at him, then punch him in the nose.
"That's for breaking my door, C."
I head down the corridor, ignoring his protests against me. I hear sirens and shouting; I must be close to the exit. I jump out the building, landing on a dumpster. I look off into the crowd, seeing who all is there. I smile as I turn around and start heading into the woods.
This won't phase me- nothing ever has.
A/N: Hey guys, sorry for the short chapter, just wanted to let you guys know that from here on out, the chapters should be at least a 500 word count. Also, this story might not make any sense right now, but as I keep updating, you'll start to understand how Michael knows Carl and why Michael is running from the law. Thank you for reading!
