Chapter 20
The singlewide trailer was dimly lit, its cracked blinds doing little to keep out the streetlight glow from the rundown trailer park outside. Inside, the stale air hung heavy with the scent of cheap beer, smoke, and the faint whiff of mildew. Izzy Kuzunoha leaned back on the worn couch, passing a joint to Bella Cruz, who perched next to her. The TV flickered in the corner, playing Cabin in the Woods, casting strange shadows across the room, but no one was really watching it. It was just background noise as the gang sat around, restless, waiting for something to happen. Tito “Mad Dog” Hernandez cracked open another beer with a loud hiss, while Pilo Vargas sat with his legs sprawled out, scrolling through his phone and tapping his foot impatiently.
Bull paced by the TV, grumbling as he messed with the antenna. “Damn thing’s busted again,” he muttered, giving it a smack. The static-filled image of the horror movie flickered in and out, throwing jagged flashes of light around the room. Bella shot him an annoyed look. “Leave it, Bull. No one cares.” Izzy took another slow drag from the joint and passed it back to Bella, her gaze drifting lazily over the room. Pilo finally looked up from his phone, clearly fed up. “Anyone else tired of sitting around?” His voice was tense, frustration starting to bubble up in the quiet.
Tito cracked his knuckles and leaned back in his chair, smirking. “What, you got somewhere better to be, Pilo? Thought you were all about ‘chilling.’” The sarcasm in his voice wasn’t lost on anyone. Pilo rolled his eyes, tossing his phone onto the coffee table. “Sitting here doing nothing ain’t chilling, man. I need to do something—anything.” Bella snorted, taking another drag of the joint. “Relax, Pilo. We’ll do something when there’s something worth doing.” Izzy shifted in her seat, feeling the tension rising, but said nothing, her eyes drifting to the door as if waiting for something—someone.
The door creaked open, and Nico strolled in, a plastic bag full of 40 oz bottles dangling from his hand. “What’s up, losers?” he called, grinning as he kicked the door shut behind him. The others perked up immediately, their eyes drawn to the bag. “Took you long enough,” Pilo muttered, sitting up straighter as Nico tossed him a bottle. Nico shrugged. “Had to make a couple of stops. Got some info, though,” he said, his grin widening as he handed out the rest of the bottles. “Turns out I found us a score. Big house. Family’s out of town. Should be an easy grab.” He cracked open his own bottle and took a long swig, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
Bull leaned forward, interested now. “What’s the deal? What kind of house?” Nico shrugged as he sat down, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. “Some big mansion in the hills. The guy at the store told me his parents are out of town for Día de los Muertos. He’s watching the place. Place should be empty, easy to hit. We get in, grab what we want, and we’re out before anyone knows what happened.” Bella raised an eyebrow, taking a swig from her bottle. “Sounds too easy. What’s the catch?” Nico smirked, “No catch. Just a free pass to get what we want.”
Pilo chuckled, cracking open his bottle and taking a long drink. “Finally, some action.” Tito nodded, already getting excited. “When we hitting it?” he asked, leaning forward in his chair. Nico shrugged casually. “Tonight. We’ll head out after this.” Izzy glanced around the room, feeling a slight unease as the conversation shifted. She knew how these things went—one bad move, and everything could go sideways. But she kept quiet, taking another drag from the joint and passing it back to Bella, who seemed less concerned. Bella grinned. “Let’s do it. I could use some fun.”
As the gang continued their casual banter, Izzy stayed quiet, her thoughts wandering. She wasn’t new to these jobs, but something about this one felt off. Maybe it was Nico's confidence, or the way Pilo seemed almost too eager. Still, she kept her worries to herself, blowing out a slow stream of smoke and leaning back into the couch. Bella tapped her knee, snapping her back to reality. “You good?” Izzy nodded, forcing a smirk. “Yeah, just ready to get this over with.” Bella smirked back, completely unaware of the slight tension beginning to coil in Izzy's gut.
The TV flickered, casting eerie shadows across the trailer as the group polished off their drinks and got ready to head out. Bull was the first to stand, cracking his neck with a loud pop. “Let’s get this done,” he said, pulling on his jacket. Pilo followed suit, tucking a knife into his waistband as he stood. Tito grabbed a crowbar from behind the couch, twirling it in his hand with a grin. “You know, in case we run into any locked doors.” Bella stretched, tossing the joint into the ashtray and grabbing her jacket. Izzy watched them all get up, a pit forming in her stomach, but she followed along, slipping her hoodie over her head and pulling the hood low to hide her face.
They stepped out into the cool night air, the distant hum of the city barely audible over the crashing waves in the distance. The trailer park was quiet, the other residents long since tucked away in their aging homes. Nico led the way, his confidence never wavering as he sauntered toward the beat-up van parked a few feet away. “We’ll be in and out in no time,” he said, tossing the keys to Bull, who caught them with a grin. Izzy climbed into the back, sandwiched between Bella and Pilo, her unease growing with every passing second, but she kept her face neutral, not wanting to show any weakness.
…
The fluorescent lights buzzed softly in the dimly lit convenience store as Andreas De la Vega stood in line, waiting to check out. It had been a long day, and he was looking forward to a quiet night, but as he waited for his turn at the counter, he overheard the conversation between the store clerk and a familiar face—Nico Arlito. Nico was leaning casually against the counter, talking to the clerk like they were old friends. The clerk, oblivious to Nico’s true nature, laughed as they spoke. “Yeah, my parents went to Mexico for Día de los Muertos. House is empty. I’ve got the whole place to myself,” the clerk said with a grin.
Andreas kept his expression neutral, but his mind was already working. He knew the De Vargas family well enough to know that the clerk’s grandfather, the old man, still lived in that house. The clerk might have thought the place was empty, but Andreas knew better. He glanced at Nico, who was nodding along, his eyes gleaming with the kind of interest that made Andreas’s stomach turn. He’d seen that look before—Nico wasn’t just making small talk; he was planning something. “There goes my quiet night,” Andreas muttered under his breath as he paid for his items, his thoughts already shifting to his hidden Zorro gear.
As Andreas walked out of the store, he glanced back one last time at Nico and the clerk. The two were still chatting, the clerk completely unaware of what was about to happen. Andreas sighed and headed to his car, already mapping out the quickest way to the De Vargas mansion. He knew the Quechua had been getting bolder lately, but targeting an elderly man in his own home? That was low, even for them. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, his mind shifting from lawyer to vigilante. The night had taken a sharp turn, and Zorro would have to make an appearance before it was over.
…
The van rolled to a stop in front of the massive mansion, the dark silhouette of the house looming against the night sky. Nico hopped out first, a grin spreading across his face as he took in the sight. “Told you, easy pickings,” he said, pulling out a crowbar and heading for the front door. The rest followed, laughing and jostling each other as if they were on some kind of joyride rather than a heist. Bella lit a cigarette and took a long drag as Bull shoved open the door with a creak. “Hell yeah,” Tito muttered, looking around the grand foyer. “We could throw a party in here.” And that’s exactly what it started to feel like—more like a party than a robbery, as they wandered through the mansion, cracking open beers and throwing their jackets on the fancy furniture.
Their muddy boots left tracks all over the pristine marble floors as they spread out through the mansion, treating it like their personal playground. Bull kicked open a door, laughing as he found a home theater. “Yo, check this out!” he called, flicking on the lights. Bella wandered into the kitchen, tossing open cabinets and pulling out expensive bottles of liquor. “Jackpot,” she grinned, popping one open and taking a swig straight from the bottle. Pilo flipped through drawers in the living room, tossing silverware and random trinkets onto the floor without a second thought. Nico was already upstairs, rummaging through the master bedroom, throwing clothes and jewelry into a duffel bag. “I told you this place was loaded,” he called down, his voice echoing through the house.
Tito found the old record player in the corner of the living room and cranked it up, the sound of scratchy old jazz records filling the air. He kicked his feet up on the coffee table, downing a beer and grinning like a king in his palace. “Man, this is the life,” he said, leaning back with a satisfied sigh. Bella danced her way back into the living room, bottle in hand, laughing as she swayed to the music. “We should do this more often,” she joked, her eyes gleaming in the dim light. Izzy, quieter than the rest, wandered around, her unease growing as the others reveled in their newfound freedom. She paused by a family photo on the wall, her fingers tracing the frame. Something wasn’t right, but she couldn’t quite place it.
As Izzy wandered through the hallway, her eyes caught on a series of framed family photos. In every picture, there was an old man—stooped but sharp-eyed, his presence constant in the background. A cold realization started to settle in. This house wasn’t as empty as Nico thought. She moved closer to a small table by the stairs, her eyes narrowing on a couple of orange prescription bottles. She picked one up, reading the label: dementia meds. “Shit,” she whispered under her breath, her unease growing. Gramps was still living here, probably just upstairs.
A creaking sound from the staircase cut through the noise of the ransacking. Izzy turned just in time to see Gramps—frail, unsteady, and gripping a baseball bat far too heavy for him—stumble down the stairs. His eyes were glazed, and he mumbled something incoherent, likely unaware of what was really happening. “Who—who’s in my house?” he called, his voice trembling. The others froze for a second before Pilo burst into laughter. “You gotta be kidding me,” he said, walking over to the old man. Without hesitation, he yanked the bat out of Gramps' hands and tossed it aside. “Get this geezer outta here,” Nico barked, his grin twisted with amusement.
Bull was the first to move, grabbing Gramps by the collar and dragging him down the rest of the stairs. The old man yelped in pain, his legs giving out as Bull hauled him into the kitchen. “What do we do with him?” Bull asked, his voice cold, as Gramps tried feebly to struggle. Nico followed, a wicked grin on his face. “Just keep him quiet until we’re done,” he said, kicking a chair out from under the table. Pilo grabbed Gramps' arm roughly and shoved him into the chair, binding his hands with a belt from one of the bedrooms. Tito laughed, cracking open another beer. “He’s not going anywhere. Old man’s barely got the strength to stand.”
Gramps whimpered as he slumped in the chair, his head drooping. “Please... I don’t have anything you want,” he muttered, his voice shaky and weak. Pilo leaned in close, sneering. “Shut up, old man. We’ll decide what you’ve got.” He shoved Gramps’ head back, laughing as the old man winced in pain. Nico circled around the kitchen, opening cabinets and drawers, tossing things to the floor in a frenzy. “Let’s make this quick. I don’t wanna hang around longer than we need to.” Izzy shrunk back, arms crossed, watching with a growing pitt in her stomach. “Please don’t kill him,” she begged. “He dosent need to die.” But her words went mostly ignored as the others kept ransacking the place.
Bull snorted, clearly not concerned about Izzy’s pleas. He grabbed a handful of Gramps’ hair, yanking his head up roughly. “Maybe we don’t kill him, but we sure as hell can have some fun first.” Gramps groaned, his eyes glazed with fear and confusion. Izzy, now standing back by the kitchen doorway, felt the pitt tighten in her stomach. This wasn’t what she’d signed up for. She glanced at Nico, but he was too busy raiding the cabinets to care. The rest of the group seemed more than willing to go along with Bull’s idea of “fun.” Izzy took a slow step back, her mind racing, as the situation spiraled out of control.
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As Santi raised his gun, aiming directly at Gramps, a sharp crack cut through the air. The whip snapped around his arm, yanking it to the side before he could fire. Panic flashed in his eyes as he struggled to regain control, firing off a few wild shots in a desperate attempt to hit whatever had grabbed him. The chandelier above swung violently, the muzzle flashes casting fleeting shadows across the room. His screams filled the air as the whip coiled around his ankle next, pulling him with a violent jerk toward the darkness of the hallway.
The gang stood frozen in shock as Santi was dragged away, his gun still firing wildly until it clattered to the floor. His screams were abruptly cut off, leaving only the sound of the swinging chandelier and a low, mocking laugh that echoed through the house. Out of the shadows, Zorro appeared, his sword glinting in the dim light, a smile curling on his lips. "Run," he said, his voice calm and dripping with amusement. "At least make it interesting."
The group stood in stunned silence, their breaths shallow, eyes darting toward the darkness where Santi had disappeared. Bull was the first to break, cursing under his breath as he backed away, fear creeping into his voice. “What the hell was that?” he muttered, looking to Nico for some kind of answer. Nico, normally the unshakable asshole, was frozen, his eyes fixed on the spot where Zorro had appeared. “Move!” Bella shouted, snapping them out of their stupor. She grabbed Izzy’s arm, pulling her toward the door as the group broke into a panicked run, scrambling to get away from whatever horror was stalking them.
As they bolted through the mansion, their footsteps echoing off the marble floors, the laughter followed them—low, chilling, and relentless. Nico shoved past Pilo, desperate to get ahead as the group stumbled through the dimly lit hallways. Izzy glanced back, her heart pounding in her chest. She saw nothing but shadows, but the sound of that mocking laugh was closer now. "He’s playing with us," she thought, her stomach twisting in fear. Pilo, trailing behind, tripped over a fallen chair, slamming into the ground with a loud thud. "Help!" he shouted, scrambling to get up, but before anyone could reach him, the whip snapped again, pulling him into the darkness.
Pilo's scream echoed through the halls as the whip dragged him into the shadows, his hands clawing at the floor in a futile attempt to stop his descent. The group froze for a moment, staring in horror as his body vanished into the darkness. The mocking laughter grew louder, more menacing, as if Zorro was right behind them, watching their every move. Bull was the first to snap. "Screw this!" he shouted, making a mad dash for the nearest window. His heavy frame slammed against it, but the ornate, iron latch wouldn’t give. "We’re trapped!" Bella shouted, her voice shaking as she looked around wildly for another way out.
Bull pounded on the window, his fists leaving smears of dirt and sweat on the glass. "Move!" Nico barked, shoving him aside to try the door. His hands fumbled with the lock, but it was jammed, the old house seeming to close in around them. Bella spun around, eyes wide, as the laughter continued to echo from every corner, taunting them. "He’s toying with us!" she shouted, backing up toward the hallway. Izzy stayed close to the wall, her breath quick and shallow, her mind racing. Every instinct told her to run, but there was nowhere to go. The house had become a trap, and Zorro was the hunter.
Without warning, the the lights cut out, casting flickering darkness across the room as shadows danced overhead. Izzy’s heart raced, her eyes darting to the ceiling as she caught a glimpse of Zorro. He moved like a phantom, his footfalls silent, his movements too quick to track. Nico, still struggling with the door, cursed under his breath. “We need to split up!” he shouted, turning to the others. But before anyone could react, a dark figure dropped down in front of them. Zorro stood there, his sword drawn, a wicked smile on his face. He tilted his head slightly, the gold tooth gleaming as the moonlight gleaming through the window caught it. “Come now,” he said softly, his voice taunting. “Let’s make this a bit more fun.”
Bull charged at Zorro, fists raised, but the masked figure moved like a shadow, stepping aside with effortless precision. In one fluid motion, Zorro brought the flat of his sword down hard against Bull’s throat, sending him crashing to the ground, gasping for air. A shallow cut appeared on Bull’s forehead, blood immediately trickling down into his eyes, blinding him. He flailed on the floor, clutching his throat and screaming. “He’s killing us!” Nico shouted, panic rising in his voice as he saw the blood streaming down Bull’s face. To the others, it looked fatal, but Izzy, still pressed against the wall, saw the truth—Zorro’s blade was swift, precise, and deliberate. He was toying with them, but not killing them... yet.
Nico fumbled for his gun, his hands shaking as he backed away, eyes wide with terror. “We gotta get out of here!” he yelled, his voice cracking as he glanced at the others. Bella grabbed Izzy’s arm, pulling her toward the hallway as they scrambled to escape. The sound of Bull’s choking gasps filled the air, making it all the more terrifying. Nico fired a shot in Zorro’s direction, the bullet ricocheting off the marble floor. The flash briefly illuminated Zorro’s face—his smile was still there, calm, almost amused, as if he was enjoying every moment of their panic. “Run,” he whispered again, his voice echoing in the hall, “but you won’t get far.”
Bella and Izzy bolted down the hallway, their footsteps pounding against the hardwood floor as Nico fired another wild shot. The bullet missed its mark, hitting a nearby vase and shattering it into pieces. Izzy’s heart raced, her mind in overdrive as the laughter from behind seemed to follow them, growing louder with every step. She could feel Bella’s grip tightening around her wrist, pulling her along, but her instincts told her something was wrong. As they rounded a corner, Izzy risked a glance back and caught a glimpse of Zorro—moving effortlessly through the shadows, his movements sharp and deliberate, like he was stalking prey.
They didn’t make it far before Zorro struck again. A whip cracked, wrapping around Nico’s ankle and yanking him off his feet with brutal force. He hit the ground hard, his gun flying from his hand and skidding across the floor. Nico screamed, clawing at the floor in a desperate attempt to break free, but it was useless. The others froze, watching in horror as Zorro dragged him into the shadows, his scream echoing through the house. Izzy’s breath caught in her throat as she saw a glint of steel and then the blood—just enough to make Nico look like he was done for. But once again, she noticed the precision of Zorro’s strikes. He wasn’t killing them.
As Nico vanished into the shadows, his screams fading, the others were left frozen in terror. Bella tightened her grip on Izzy, but her tough facade was cracking, her eyes wide with fear. “We have to get out of here,” Bella whispered, her voice trembling. Izzy, still in shock, could only nod as they stumbled forward. They could hear the sound of Zorro’s boots echoing faintly behind them, deliberate and unhurried. He was hunting them, taking his time, savoring their fear. Every shadow seemed to move, every corner felt like a trap. The mansion, which had once felt like an easy score, had become a labyrinth of terror.
As they stumbled down the dark hallway, Izzy’s instincts kicked in. Her eyes darted around, searching for any possible escape. Every step felt like it might be her last, but something deep inside told her she could outrun him—at least for a while. Behind them, Zorro’s footsteps seemed to disappear, but that only made it worse. The silence was more terrifying than the laughter. Bella yanked her toward a doorway, shoving her inside an empty room. “We’ll hide here,” she whispered, her breath shaky. But Izzy knew better. Hiding wouldn’t save them. Zorro could find them anywhere.
Bella pressed her ear to the door, her breath ragged, while Izzy crouched by the window, scanning the darkness outside. “He’s toying with us,” Izzy thought, the memory of his movements playing in her mind. The precision, the skill—he wasn’t just some thug. He was something else, something familiar in a way she couldn’t quite place. Her heart pounded as she recalled the training she’d had as a child, flashes of old lessons stirring in the back of her mind. Bella glanced back at her, panic in her eyes. “What do we do?” she whispered. But before Izzy could respond, the sound of the door creaking open froze them both in place.
The door creaked open, revealing only darkness at first. Bella took a step back, her hands trembling, eyes wide with fear. Then, Zorro stepped into the light, his sword gleaming, his expression calm and almost amused. "Hiding? That’s not how this game works," he said, his voice smooth and taunting. Bella raised her hands defensively, backing up, while Izzy remained still, her gaze locked on him. There was something about the way he moved—methodical, deliberate. He wasn’t just attacking; he was in complete control. Izzy could see it now—he wasn’t there to kill, at least not yet. He wanted them scared, broken.
Bella made a sudden move, lunging toward Zorro in desperation, grabbing a nearby vase and hurling it at him. He easily sidestepped, his blade flashing as he swung the flat edge against her wrist, sending her stumbling backward in pain. She collapsed against the wall, cradling her arm, her face pale with terror. Izzy watched the entire exchange, her heart racing. like the others, she could see that Zorro was holding back, striking just enough to incapacitate but not enough to end anyone's life. He was in control, completely. But for the rest of them, it was chaos—they thought they were fighting for their lives.
As Bella cradled her arm, her breaths coming in sharp gasps, Zorro turned his attention back to Izzy. His smile remained, calm and unwavering, as he took a step closer. Izzy’s mind raced, her instincts screaming at her to run, but something kept her rooted in place. She could feel her body tense, preparing for something—she wasn’t sure what. “You’re different,” Zorro said softly, his gaze locking onto hers. The words sent a chill through her, as if he saw something in her that even she didn’t fully understand. Behind him, Bella whimpered in pain, but Zorro didn’t break his focus on Izzy. “You might survive this.”
Izzy swallowed hard, her heart pounding as Zorro’s words echoed in her mind. "Survive this?" she thought, her pulse racing. She could feel his eyes on her, studying her, but there was something different in his gaze—something almost... respectful? The others had been taken down so easily, but with her, he hesitated. She didn’t know whether to feel relieved or terrified. Behind her, Bella groaned, struggling to get up, but Izzy remained still, her muscles coiled, ready to move. “Why?” she whispered, barely able to form the words. Zorro’s smile widened just slightly, but he gave no answer. Instead, he sheathed his sword, his gaze never leaving hers. "Run," he said quietly, stepping back into the shadows. "Before I change my mind."
Izzy didn’t need to be told twice. She grabbed Bella’s arm and hauled her to her feet, her own heart pounding in her chest. They stumbled out of the room, the weight of Zorro’s presence still lingering in the air. The hallways seemed endless, the dim lighting only adding to the nightmare they were in. Bella was barely coherent, clutching her injured arm, but Izzy kept moving, forcing them forward. She could still hear the echo of Zorro’s voice, that calm, terrifying command: “Run.” But as they made their way toward the front door, Izzy couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t over—not by a long shot.
They burst out of the front door, gasping for breath, their shoes slapping against the wet pavement outside. The mansion loomed behind them, dark and foreboding, but they didn’t dare look back. Izzy scanned the street, her mind racing for where to go next. The eerie silence of the night was suddenly broken by the sound of distant sirens, slowly growing louder. Bella, still cradling her arm, slumped against the fence, her face pale with shock. “Cops…” she muttered, barely able to form the word. Izzy’s stomach twisted—getting caught was bad enough, but they had no idea if Zorro had alerted the police or if someone else had. Either way, time was running out.
Before they could make a move, flashing red and blue lights filled the street, and within seconds, police cars screeched to a halt in front of the mansion. Officers spilled out, guns drawn, shouting commands. Izzy froze, her heart pounding as she raised her hands, the weight of the night crashing down on her. Bella, still dazed and in pain, slid down to the ground, unable to keep her balance. "Hands where we can see them!" one officer yelled as others surrounded them. Izzy felt a surge of panic—there was no way out now. She glanced back at the mansion, but Zorro was gone, leaving them to face the consequences alone.