No Escape

No Escape

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WpMetadataReadMatureComplete Sun, Jan 26, 20253h 42m
Johnny Brasco was shot and killed on the side of the road in the evening in New York City. His death triggers a lot of connections, such as one from his line of work - the dangerous kind. The killer is now on the loose, but for how long? That is up to the English mob to decide. With Jacob Withson at the top, an operation is created to bring down his ruthless rival, and the killer themselves, is suspected to be amongst them. Will he risk his life and the lives of his people to avenge his late friend? Or will he become the next victim? [[word count: 40,000-46,000 words]] Cover designed by Anthony Creek *** He heard banging and screams, but he still proceeded to try the knob anyway. Which was already a dumb move. The victim wouldn't have struggled if the door wasn't locked in the first place. A voice yelled, "Help!" It came from behind the door. Marcus turned around to see if anyone had followed him upstairs, but then he saw no one except a painting on the wall. "Leonardo!" the voice yelled again. "Stop playing games with me. Get me the fuck out of here! Right fucking now!" "Gianna?" Marcus yelled back. "Is that you?" There was no response for a moment. He was assuming that the woman was assessing the situation. "Gianna?" Marcus yelled again. "Hey, it's me! I'm getting you outta here!" "Marcus! How did you get in here?" "Don't worry about it!" He punched the door knob like a clueless idiot, testing if it would break that easily. But he guessed not. All he got in the process was a half-broken knuckle. "Stay away from the door!" he yelled at the woman. "What?!" she replied. Marcus decided to take a few steps away from the door, positioned his shoulders at the right angle, and inhaled a small amount of air for his chest to relax. He allowed his mind to grab the momentum. Afterwards he called it a start and rushed toward the door, like an angry bull upon seeing a red flag.
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COMPLETED! BOOK 2 in process! EDITING IN PROCESS! "Reid! Look out!" I scream as I push him over and I replace his spot. I try to turn around but I felt the pressure enter my neck. It sends me sprawling and collapsing to the ground. "Carrie!" I hear Morgan and Reid yell in unison. Darkness surrounds me and the gunshots echo and scream pass me. Glass shatters beside me and I feel my legs being dragged across the ground and place my back against a side of a car. I open my eyes barely and glass shatters above me. I press my hand against my neck and pull it away. A red trail runs down my hand and I look up and see someone that look extremely familiar just a few seconds ago. My vision became blurry and hard to see. I start to become extremely tired. I felt a hand press against my neck and winces throughout my body. I lowly grunt under my breath as it escapes me from the filled oxygen. I slightly open my eyes and see Reid. "Hey, just keep your eyes on me." He pulls his hand away and looks at the-the red liquid substances. "We need a medic!" His voice quivers. His eyes meet mine and I smile weakly. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I'm not what you call an average teenager. I graduate high-school at the age of 14 and college at 22 with an IQ of 176. My life or childhood was a devastating war between abuse and mental breakdown. I try to escape every time I could. Now, all that's payed off when I become the youngest FBI in the BAU Unit. My life is planned out and everything. Have my own apartment, car, and hopefully a job that I alway wanted. I'm only a new recruit. Draft... Maybe. But I never thought that's a battle until a serial killer runs through town.

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