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Twelve

Sunday

8/10/25

Harley and I were laying in bed when the bang sounded throughout the apartment, it was late, sometime around 2 am, and we were just tucking in for a night's rest. We were drunk, tired, and properly out of our minds, but those effects were quickly nullified by the frantic maelstrom of chaos that followed. Footsteps came soon after, multiple pairs, they sounded from the living room and quickly made their way throughout the small apartment, our room was in the back, we had some time.

I reacted quickly and grabbed for the dulled battleaxe we kept behind the bed before quietly getting up and sneaking to position myself just beyond the door frame, hopefully out of sight enough. I turned the lock on the bedroom door for good measure.

Creak

The footsteps sounded on the other side of the door.

Harley followed my lead, reaching for an empty wine bottle that happened to be on our dresser and tucking herself into the open closet with it.

The tension in the air was palpable, and the apartment was eerily quiet, I could feel my heart beating out of my chest and hear the heavy breathing of the person beyond the wall. The door knob jiggled once, twice, three times, and I held my fucking breath, praying to every god I could think of that they would just take our tv or some shit and leave. They didn't.

Boom

The door shattered open, and I was confronted by a giant fucking man, foot still elevated from the kick that broke our door down. I didn't wait for him to see me. I raised the axe and swung for his goddamn chest with all the strength I had.

Blood splattered, and I heard his scream, followed by the distinct sound of a gunshot. I swung wildly again, this time aiming for his legs. The blow landed, and the vibration damn near knocked the weapon out of my hands. The man smashed to the ground, screaming his fucking lungs out over his wounds, but I was not about to take any chances. My third blow was for his head, I did offer him the grace of turning the axe sideways, however, I would not have this bastard's death on my hands. The strike landed true, and his screams stopped with a dramatic thud as his head hit the floor, devoid of consciousness.

Time was moving very slowly at this moment and I took full advantage, taking a second to look over at Harley and make sure she was ok. She was still standing, visibly shaken, but unharmed, the bullet missed us both, thank fucking god. I took another second to look over the man's fallen body, quickly finding the dropped handgun and picking it up, I hoped it had more bullets, but I didn't have the opportunity to check. I dropped the axe and wielded the pistol, grateful for the one or two times I went to a shooting range with my father as a teenager.

I didn't know what to do next, though, there was clearly at least one more person in the apartment, judging by the noise in the living room, and he sounded as frantic as I was. The footsteps thumping faster and faster, making their way towards our room. I was not about to get into a gunfight right now, no way would I survive that.

THINK BITCH, THIIINK! The voice in my head urged me on, desperate for some plan, we had no good options. I decided to bluff, and instinctively switched my voice back to that old masculine one I had known for decades.

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"I know you hear me motherfucker, your friend is down, and I have his fucking gun. If you want to avoid a shootout right now I suggest you get the fuck out of my house!" I bellowed as loudly and authoritatively as I could, the unpracticed voice burning my throat as I let it escape my lips as gravely as I could muster.

"Shit, shit, okay don't shoot bro, I'm out." He sounded young and scared, clearly unwilling to risk his skin over some bullshit robbery.

I turned, and peaked through the doorway, hearing the scuttling of the man somewhere in the living room, but I couldn't be sure that he bought my bluff. I pointed the gun through the doorway and fired blindly, hoping I'd miss anything important.

"SHIT, FUCK, ALRIGHT!" I could practically hear him pissing himself as he ran out of the apartment. I listened for a while longer, making sure the footsteps quieted until they were completely gone. Only then did I release the breath I didn't know I had been holding, drop the gun, and run to check on Harley.

"Jesus fucking Christ Vi, how the fuck did you do that? Did you kill him?" Harley was panicked and let herself drop to her knees as I got to her.

"I don't think so, I don't know, I just had to scare him away. Are you good?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I think so, call the cops, I need to sit."

I dropped to the floor next to her, letting the gun fall from my hands. Mind purely focused on letting the adrenaline pass through my body and calming my racing heartbeat. What the fuck happened? Who the hell were these bastards? What had I done?

My gaze snapped to the still form of the man I had knocked out, he lay on the floor motionless, wearing all black, and surrounded by an ever-growing puddle of blood. The axe was on the floor next to him, blade splattered with his blood as well. I shimmied over to him and fumbled on his neck, feeling for a pulse.

Thump, thump, thump

The beat was weak, and slightly erratic, but he was thankfully alive. The comfort of that knowledge washed over me, and I let my body slump against the side of my bed frame, listening to Harley's frantic voice as she spoke with the operator.

"Yes, yes, 2 guys, one is down, he needs an ambulance, they had guns, yes, the other one escaped, okay." The answers came from her in rapid bursts, and I could only assume the operator's questions from her responses. She covered the microphone with her hand and spoke to me next. "They'll be here soon, sit down and calm down, take deep breaths babe."

I listened to her commands, content to let my mind calm and wander for however long it'd take the pigs to arrive. Time was moving so fucking slowly, and I could not be free of this situation quickly enough, this was so FUCKED. I allowed my head to drop into my blood splattered hands and took deep breaths for what felt like goddamn days. Slowly in, slowly out, I thought to myself as I calmed my racing heart. Slowly in, slowly out, I reminded myself as I worked to settle my frantic thoughts. Slowly in, slowly out, I repeated over and over as I finally was able to get a grip on my body. Slowly in, slowly out, slowly in, slowly out.

The police did not take long to arrive, within minutes there were countless officers in our apartment, they all had hands on their holsters and walked throughout the apartment with flashlights drawn. "We're in here." Harley called to them with a weak voice, and they made their way over to the bedroom. The first officer took his time with the sight of the room, looking the three of us over for a while before speaking.

"Don't worry, we got this, are you two hurt? Can you walk?"

"We're fine, I took him down before he could hurt us." I spoke quietly.

His gaze snapped back to me, before scanning the still body and the weapon that laid discarded next to him. "That's your axe?"

I nodded silently.

"Okay, don't worry, go sit in the living room with my partners, we'll take care of the scene." He urged us up and kneeled before the criminal, checking his vitals. "JOHN, get that paramedic in here."

We both got up and timidly left the room, allowing ourselves to be escorted out of the bedroom crime scene, and settling awkwardly on the couch. What followed was an interrogation that lasted hours, we repeated the same story countless times, in ever-increasing detail until all the various officers were satisfied with our answers. The man was wheeled out on a stretcher, and both of our weapons were carried out in evidence bags. The officers did their best to assure us that we were safe, and no trouble would befall us, I had acted in self-defense. The fact that I used his gun would complicate things, but I was repeatedly told it would be fine.

I frankly did not give a shit at that moment, sure, the reassurance helped, but all I wanted was to go to bed and let this night escape my brain.

The ordeal eventually ended, evidence was gathered, statements were taken, and blood was clumsily cleaned by a well-meaning officer afterward. We were given a phone number to contact, and assured that they would be in touch tomorrow with nest steps. By the end of it Harley and I were in no place to listen to their instructions, so she pulled out her phone and recorded the officers in a voice memo as they laid out the plan for us.

They left us alone after, battered mentally and physically, and we passed out on our living room couch, both very much unwilling to return to the fucked up scene in our bedroom.