The dusty table felt solid beneath my fingertips as I eagerly awaited my hand. With a smile, the dealer shuffled the cards expertly, the sound of the cards slapping against each other filling the room. The cards were finally dealt, and I viewed my hand. Double aces! I couldn't contain my excitement as I glanced around the table, my confidence soaring at the sight of my winning hand. The member to my right shrugged and slid his cards back, "I'm out." I chuckled at his loss.
"He lost a hundred bucks. That's hilarious." the dealer remarked, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "That's three hours of work for us right there." I nodded in agreement, the ups and downs of the game of poker a familiar sight to me. "This game's tough luck, ya know." I replied, my voice amused. The dealer placed three cards in the center of the table—a two of hearts, a nine of hearts, and an ace of clubs. Nice! With the perfect hand, victory seemed within reach. Taking advantage of my position next to the dealer, I raised the stakes, my voice firm as I declared, "I raise to thirty." and tossed thirty dollars into the pot with a flick of my wrist.
The tension mounted around the table, the next player folded quickly. "Bulls**t. I fold." he declared, shooting me a glare that spoke volumes. I offered a casual shrug in response, understanding that emotions often ran high in the heat of the game. Undeterred by his departure, the other two players matched my raise without thought. With each card that was revealed, the anticipation in the air grew thicker, the stakes rising with each passing moment. When the final card—a four of clubs—was laid out on the table, I knew that victory was within my grasp. With a steady hand, I raised the stakes once more, my voice firm as I declared, "I raise to fifty."
The other two players folded as well, leaving only the dealer to contend with. With a sense of resolve, I awaited his response as he prepared to reveal his hand. "Reveal it." he demanded, his voice tinged with a hint of frustration. With a smug grin, I revealed my full house, ace high, I had to win. The dealer revealed his hand—absolutely nothing." Son of a bitch! Take your money, I'm done with this garbage." he exclaimed, his frustration palpable as he pushed the pile of dollars toward me. I gathered up the money, stuffing the two hundred bucks into my wallet with a satisfied smile. Victory was sweet, indeed.
The first player who had folded earlier reentered the room, his presence brought work back onto our minds. "Hey, we have to do our rounds. Two of us minimum." he announced, his voice commanding attention. "Benjamin, Lucas, you're together. Liam, Nathan, you're with me. We're Squad B, and the other two are Squad A. Squad A, hit the left side of town." Curiosity piqued, I questioned the pairing up. "Why in teams? Nobody can do anything about us." I remarked, a hint of skepticism coloring my words. But his response was sobering. "He... has been spotted near here.” he warned, his tone grave. "Just do it, damn it. Deputy's orders." I rose from my seat, adjusting my black jacket as I prepared to follow orders. Glancing over at Liam, I offered a menacing smile. "Ready to go?" I asked, my voice tinged with determination. He nodded in response. We walked out of the building, and followed Oliver.
We made our way down the bustling town street, the cacophony of sounds surrounded us—cars honking, people chatting, the hustle and bustle of everyday life. Yet, despite the lively atmosphere, there was an underlying tension in the air, palpable in the way people glanced nervously at us as we passed by. Taking note of the fearful stares directed our way, I felt discomfort. Among the crowd, I spotted a small child clinging to his mother's hand. I used to be like that, huh? "We're getting these awful stares because that bastard's been clearing places like this out." Liam remarked, his voice heavy with disdain. I did not know who he was referring to, but I should be informed later, at least. "How close?" I inquired, my curiosity piqued by Liam's somber demeanor. "A state away." he replied, a shiver running down his spine. With a clenched fist, he added, "The Alliance isn't letting this slide, though. A Representative should arrive within the next day as backup. Let's finish our rounds already."
Oliver wasted no time in approaching the clerk, a young woman no older than twenty. The city was small, rarely lively, I couldn't help but notice her striking appearance. Oliver's demanded, "Hey, it's time for our protection fee." the threat implicit in his words. She made a defiant gesture, "Let me get the manager.." In a split second, chaos erupted as a gunshot shattered the air, cutting through the tension. My heart stopped as I watched in horror as Oliver's lifeless body slumped to the ground, his head split in two by the force of the bullet. "What?!" I exclaimed, disbelief coursing through me as I struggled to make sense of the sudden violence that had erupted.
Turning to face the source of the gunfire, I spotted an old man in the employee's room, his hand still clutching the smoking gun. I realized the gravity of the situation—we were under attack. "You made a big mistake!" I shouted, my voice laced with fury as I ducked and weaved, narrowly avoiding the hail of bullets that followed. I closed the distance between myself and the old man, my every movement adrenaline-filled as I dodged the incoming gunfire. Liam mirrored my actions, his movements fluid as he skillfully evaded the bullets aimed in our direction. I cornered the him, pressing him against the wall with a firm grip. But as I looked into his eyes, I saw no remorse—only a cold indifference that sent chills down my spine. "If you ever have a kid, you'll know why I did that." he remarked, his words chilling to the bone. "You made me do this!" I retorted, my voice trembling with rage as I snapped his neck without a second thought, the action swift and decisive. The lifeless body slumped to the ground, a chorus of horrified screams filled the air, the young woman collapsing to her knees in anguish.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Liam lamented, "Damn, Nathan. We're going to have to tell the boss." "Yeah. Let me grab the cash we're owed, though." I responded, determination driving me forward as I made my way to the counter. Counting out the meager sum of two hundred dollars, this wasn't enough. I turned to the old man's lifeless body, retrieving the rest of the money from his possession. It was a slightly higher sum than what was owed to us, a small consolation. The other customers remained silent, their gaze averted as they allowed us to carry out our grim task. Turning to the young woman, I told her about the fee. "Four hundred and fifty-two. That extra one hundred and fifty is for killing Oliver. Bye." I stated bluntly, my words devoid of empathy as I turned and made my way to the door. Holding it open for Liam, I watched as he lifted Oliver's corpse onto his shoulder.
We completed the remainder of our rounds without further incident, the weight of the day's events sad to see. Hours later, we returned to headquarters, our earnings of a few thousand dollars in hand. Entering the main office, we were met by the highest-ranking worker in our region—the one responsible for the business side of our operations. His stern expression spoke volumes as he addressed us. "Oliver's dead, is that right? Damn it. The Deputy is not gonna be happy. Just go for now, just make some more knives in the factory. " he exclaimed, his frustration evident in his angry tone. We made a motion to leave. "Yes sir." I responded, acknowledging his orders as I cast a lingering glance at the shelves stacked with papers—a reminder of the bureaucracy that governed our every move.
A sound rang out, it loud and disturbing. Sounded like.. bricks flying? The jarring sound reverberated, its intensity causing us to instinctively cover our ears, a sense of confusion and alarm washed over us. What could possibly be causing such a disturbance? The noise eventually subsided, leaving us all shaken and disoriented. Speculations ran wild through our minds—was it an attack by law enforcement? Impossible. The sound had originated from the third floor, and there were no gifted police officers for hundreds of miles around.
The urgency in the voice of the worker seated in the office snapped us out of our daze, his command ringing clear in our ears. "Get down there! Figure out what's going on! If some idiot is burning down this place, I'll kill them myself!" he bellowed, his anger fueled to the brim. We sprang into action, rushing down the stairs and converging on the first floor lobby. What greeted us was a scene of chaos and devastation—bodies strewn across the floor, the familiar faces of our fellow members the only ones among the fallen. It was a scene of utter carnage, and as we surveyed the wreckage, the realization slowly dawned upon us—whatever had caused this devastation, it was an outside job. No one inside our organization would do this to us.
A door paced back and forth, like it was just opened. Liam pointed, "There! Go now!" As we rushed through the door, our hearts pounding with adrenaline-fueled anticipation, the scene that greeted us was one of chaos and confusion. Amidst the fray stood a solitary figure, cloaked in a somber shade of gray, his movements fluid and effortless as he dispatched our comrades with alarming ease. It was a sight to behold—the hooded figure seemed almost indifferent to the onslaught of attacks directed towards him, each blow expertly deflected or countered. Every member who was hit flew through the wall they landed on. Despite the odds stacked against him, he remained steadfast and composed, his demeanor casual in the face of many. Caught in the grip of astonishment and disbelief, we watched in awe as the enigmatic figure moved with a grace and skill that seemed almost supernatural. It's like he's dancing. In that moment, it became abundantly clear—this was no ordinary gifted we faced.
The realization struck like a bolt of lightning as the higher-up uttered a damning revelation, his voice thick with dread, "It's him! The Crusader of the East! He's one of the highest priority targets! He's stronger than anyone here! The gray cloak, the power.. We're going to die!" I looked back, "Who?!" It was a name I had never heard before but one that carried strength. Before I could process the danger that were were all in, a sudden impact sent searing pain coursing through my body as I was flung into the wall, the force of the blow shattering bone and rending flesh.
As I laid there, helpless and broken, the agony of my injuries eclipsed only by the overwhelming sense of despair, I found myself questioning the cruelty of fate. "Why have you forsaken me?" I cried out in anguish, my voice barely a whisper. There was no reprieve, no salvation to be found in this moment of despair. The cloaked figure loomed over me, his features illuminated by a sickly light. His golden locks cascading from beneath the hood of his cloak, finally revealing who he was. Sadly, it was someone who I didn't recognize. One thing was for sure, he was young. "You have forsaken yourself." he declared, his voice devoid of mercy as he raised his fist, ready to deliver my judgement. And then, darkness enveloped me, swallowing me whole as I was cast into eternal torment. I was sent straight to Hell.