Chapter Three: Among The Soulless
Prologue: The Most Horrible Deja-Vu
My senses crawling back to another nightmare gave me the most horrible sense of deja-vu anyone could’ve ever lived.
Not now. Not again. Not Irvine. Not Jack Bret. Not Rinoa.
But my list had been making absolutely no difference, I was once again into the sick story of the bomb, ready to go off, no matter what I touch. So I decided to touch nothing, or just touch everything to make this nightmare end.
Not the suite this time, it was Deling Hotel. The room 389, but it was changing to 983 or 839. The inside was like the suite, a door opening to the study room without a window. I didn’t like the way it all seemed to me, considering I kept having the same nightmare all the time.
There was a notebook on the table, maybe my diary, maybe hers.
But it made no sense. Nothing made sense anymore, everything had dissolved themselves in a sensless scripture noone can decipher.
Silver hair of Irvine’s gun spoke to me yesterday with great courage and villiany, I couldn’t believe how rude it was the bomb on the doorknob was screaming at me keeping a secret that I should’ve told Squall.
I should’ve told Squall a secret I had buried within Burning Ice, with shovels and stapled Hexadragons on top of some broken skulls...
It didn’t make much sense to me. But whatever actually made sense to me was already against me...
“Should’ve told Squall...” I remembered this sentence well. It was the only readable thing on Rinoa’s diary after the bomb and her end. She had a secret, and that was probably the thing I had been digging deep into the hell for.
But believe it or not, the nightmare had just begun.
A phone was ringing, Quistis crying somewhere. Irvine, shot dead, adjusting his hair in the mirror. He had the same empty look in his eyes. I jumped upwards and flew right through the ceiling onto the top floor, and I had ended up in the study room with a window.
But this time, I felt like I didn’t need the window. I knew this was a dream, or a nightmare, and I could do anything if I totally believed in it.
I forced myself to believe I’m as thin as air, ready to slip through the door into the room, without triggering the bomb. I walked into the door, and got out from the other side, where Rinoa was crying.
The madman, whom I had percieved as Jack Bret, lunged towards the door. I grabbed Rinoa, and threw us both out of the window. The bomb exploded in slow motion, flames bursting everywhere.
I was happy. I had saved her.
But a moment of happiness had it’s price, and Rinoa was pulled back into the flames, and I was falling into the fangs of a huge demon waiting for me.
I closed my eyes, and expected this most horrible deja-vu to end...
But the last thing I thought was the thing engraved on my head for quite some time...
...I had failed.
Part One: Between Angels And Insects
I woke up from the bad dream, into the dampness of snow and my blade underneath me. My wounds had been healed, once again, and I was still alive.
I looked upwads. It was still dark, but I enjoyed the darkness. It didn’t give pain to my tired eyes, to my tired soul as light did. And Rinoa had been taken by the light, another reason for me to take it as something I would not like.
“How are you feeling?” Elise asked.
I looked up. The white clouds showed her, almost like an angel from above. She didn’t have no wings, and couldn’t sprout wings like Rinoa. Was she truly an angel to help me?
“How long have I been unconscious?” I managed to ask.
“Three hours, most probably.” She said.
“Elise.” I said “You knew I was going to kill your brother, didn’t you?”
But the look on her face was confused enough to convince me she didn’t know that.
Then, I felt filthy, another feeling besides pain in the last couple of years of my life. I was filthy, stained by a terrible crime against the angel who had saved me. Killed her brother, and she didn’t know about it. I had killed Jack Bret without batting an eye, and she could’ve left me there to be slayed by G.L.E., but she had taken me upwards to the rooftop where I would be safe.
It was situations like these, where you had gone on a plan that assumed lots of things: assumed the situation, the weapon, the killer, the target. And angels knew, but I had just guessed. That put up the difference between angels and insects.
“I’m sorry.” I muttered, though I was not. I actually was sorry for her, and sorry I couldn’t prevent Jack Bret’s death on her. She felt sad, and needed to be comforted.
But noone gave a damn about me. People had stepped over me to reach the light, and leaving me to take the fall into the darkness. I wasn’t a saint, but I wasn’t a sinner.
“Because...” I said, “He had killed the woman I loved... Rinoa.”
“He did!?” another impact.
I was feeling just like an insect. Between angels and insects, angels were the ones that were tolerant, and that aided insects, and insects just bitch slapped angels around with their actions or words or both.
“He did. And now,” I said, gripping LionHeart tight “I’m on my way.”
“To where?” Elise managed to ask between sobs.
Now that I thought about it, I really didn’t have a place to go. My office in shambles, G.L.E. searching for me...
Then I remembered the name. Brox Sulva. This guy must’ve been major to pull up his Kyser Soze act, if that was an act. A good actor would’ve made it out of the meeting room alive, but his future wouldn’t be so long. And if he wasn’t even a good actor, he would be coming out of the room in a body bag.
Brox Sulva. But first, I had to learn who he was.
I headed down from the fire exit, looking around for G.L.E. It was gently snowing, and an echo was shouting in my head, a cute voice...
“A gift from the faeries!”
It was too painful to bear, even as a memory, so I decided to go on, when the phone right across me rang. I picked it up.
“Saladin. You must get out of there, immidiately. G.L.E. is on their way.”
“What do you know that I don’t?” I asked, with a tiny little sparkle of humour.
“They know where you are. Head out of Deling, and whatever you do, don’t get caught.”
“Oh, so you’re smart? Here’s the million Gil question; Where to head to?” and he hung up on me.
It hit me hard. Mystery, which I was so sick of already. I had to leave the city, because the banshee screams of the sirens were starting to come on.
I took one step towards the sidewalk, just only one step. And a spot light came up on me. I didn’t know who it was, but it seemed familiar to me.
“Squall Leonhart! Surrender!”
That cute voice in my head... It was Selphie. I had no chances, I had ran out of luck yet again. I raised my arms and screamed “Protect!” right before a shower of bullets came at me. The spell stopped the bullets from digging holes into me, but Selphie wasn’t about to give up.
I heard her charge the main cannon. Remembring our Lunatic Pandora ambush, this was turning ugly. I had to warn Elise. I had to earn time. I had to-
As I got off my feet, the main cannon went off, sending the huge energy ray to the building behind me. The building exploded, throwing concrete and metal everywhere. I wasn’t surprised how far her uncivilsation had gone, after all, someone had killed her boyfriend, and I fit the picture.
I had no chances against Ragnarok. It was most advanced technology. But I tapped myself on the chest and said “Haste!” as I started to make my way faster than anything I had ever seen to this day. The spot light followed me, Ragnarok was breathing down on my neck. Selphie furiously pulled the trigger, the crosshair missing my neck with inches. The shower of bullets came after me as I ducked down to a back alley. I started to run as I collided with a G.L.E. officer. I had no time. I grabbed hold of his throat, and turned around, pointing his body up. Selphie failed to realise who it was, and the poor officer shielded me.
I started to run again, but someone grabbed the collar of my trenchcoat, and pulled me in from a door, and then smashed it shut.
“You’re lucky, you know.” Someone said “Not everyday we get sinners under our roof.”
I looked around to a familiar place. As familiar as the suite in my nightmares.
A Hyne Church...
...But the church looked somewhat corrupted, crushed down.
Part Two: Saints With Deadly Sins
The church wasn’t my ideal type of place. A shelter from the cold only, not the dark. Darkness was inside, it was a candle-lit place, too hostile to be a cloister.
It wasn’t my idea of a church of the superior being. It wasn’t my idea of a place on top of it all, but who was I to complain?
“Here, son, here, let me take a look at you.” The guy who saved me said.
It was an old man, blind, judging by his white eyes, leaning on a stick to stand. I wasn’t going to let him lay a finger on me.
“No, step back.” I said.
“Oh come on, don’t fight with old Marten.”
“Look, Old Marten, thank you for saving me, but I won’t let you touch me.”
“You are one of those he has spoken of...” Marten said. Curisity had killed the cat, it had killed Rinoa, and it wouldn’t make much difference if it killed me too.
“Who?” I asked.
“Saladin.” He replied.
Saladin? So the guy who has been saving me from so-called justice was a Hyne priest? What was the logic in it?
Was logic ever there, I asked myself, of all the cursed things that could happen to me, this came along. I had no idea why Diablos was still toying with me, but I would learn.
“One of what?” I asked.
“Saints with deadly sins.” Marten said “Fallen angels, the ones who had disobeyed and lost faith in Hyne.”
He had seen into my soul, if I had one left. Then, the lights came on. That’s when I realised he wasn’t saving me.
He was taking the place of an Inquisition Prosecuter, executing me without trial, for the crimes I had came to commit, and it didn’t make much difference if I was innocent. My confession was out of pain, and I surely wasn’t letting go of pain, when it was the only thing I had seen.
The church was crawling with thugs. I was surprised that Marten would let them, but it was as if he knew. But then I looked at the thugs closely. They weren’t thugs. No thug would be foolish enough to wear a SeeD uniform.
“Squall Leonhart...” said one, stepping up, with a rifle in hand.
I pointed towards him, threatening him with cursing him, or worse, killing him. My threat had been weak, so was I, standing among the soulless.
“Put your hand down, we’re not here to kill you.” He said.
“How can I know I can trust you?” I asked.
“I’m a friend of Nida’s.” He replied.
I didn’t buy it. I maybe was blind enough not to see the trap itself, but not stupid enough to buy such spineless crap. And if you had left the support beams of a bridge missing, then you surely would hide to a malastare, to live the rest of your life known as a saint with a deadly sin.
“Step back.” I warned.
“We want to help you. On Brox Sulva.” He said.
“Keep talking.” I replied, keeping my hand pointed towards him.
“Brox Sulva is playing for the top rank.”
“Wait, fill me in, who’s Brox Sulva?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“What else is new?”
“We just want you to know he has an assassin. The one that murdered Quistis Trepe and Irvine Kinneas.”
I remembered the shrukien, which had to make some sense somewhere, but I was brain-dead, and nothing made sense to me anymore. It could’ve been a shemale for what I knew, and I still wouldn’t understand the purpose behind the weapon.
He stopped, waiting for a reply.
“Go on.” I cut it short.
“She’s currently hiding in –“
“Oh yes.” He said “The assassin is a female.” He smiled, as if that brought back memories to him. Then he went on “She’s currently hiding in Winhill. You must go there, and take her out.”
“Then what? You can hunt me down? Do I look stupid without knowing I do?”
“What? Of course not!”
“Then why do you think I will just jump into this trap?”
I had no idea why I was trying to hit his nerve, but I was up to it. Maybe I was secretly hoping he would crack, and reveal something that I wanted to hear, maybe I just liked to take my frustration out on him.
Either way, his face got fixated on an expression of supressed rage, and I licked my lips.
“There is no trap. There are thirty SeeDs in this building, and you would be dead long before if we wanted you to die.”
I could’ve laughed. But as my laughter rose up, in halfway it turned into a grunt. I said,
“Not, unless you want me to do something you can’t do yourself first.”
“We can track her down, but we’re nowhere near you in sword fights.” He admitted.
I could see where this was going. Complimenting me like I was Hyne, giving me confidence enough to walk steadily into my own grave; knowing exactly what I was doing.
“Okay, let’s say I bought this crap.” I said, roughly “What makes you so sure that I will just lunge into it?”
“Well, we think that... A grudge would help.”
A grudge!? If a grudge was all that was left for me, I was surely dead yesterday.
But then the feeling hit me. What if it was my grudges that brought me to here and now? My grudge that put me among the soulless, in the middle of a cult formed by saints with deadly sins?
I couldn’t count on my grudge. Grudge was like a rabid bird Mersmerize, charging at my logic as if it was a helpless Bite Bug, ripping it into pieces with it’s ugly horn.
I was staring at this guy’s face. And he came out and said the words;
“Yes, a grudge. The name ‘Seifer Almasy’ should be enough, yes?”
And I heard the ghosts that haunt me laughing.
Part Three: Deus Ex Machina
That was the only thing I could think of. Seifer was retaliating on me. His plans had always taken the fall underneath me, as I fell with Rinoa. And now, he wanted a retaliation.
As I stared outside the window of the train bound to Timber, I thought about how it had gotten this way.
Retaliation. Seifer surely had been waiting for his time to come, where he would add the dagger with his name on it on my back as well. I didn’t know of any prayers, but I prayed to myself, begging for this not to be true.
My thoughts dissolved as a familiar voice said “Bang! You’re dead Squall Leonhart.”
I quickly got to my feet, LionHeart’s tip already at the tip of the throat of my attacker. Someone with spiky blonde hair and a tattoo on the left cheek. Zell Dincht was standing right beside me, representing the childish side of me which I had buried into the soil so many years ago.
“Whoa, now!” he said, smiling “I came here to offer you some help, let me sit down! The passangers in the back will get hairy!”
I let him sit right beside me, thinking of many possibilities. A trap, a lie, a weapon, a pawn, a devil, an answer...
“What are you doing here?” I asked, deciding that what I needed the most was the answers.
“Squall, just here to warn you...” Zell said, looking around as if he was afraid someone would rip his head clean off. Fear, erupting from him like an aura.
“Warn me?” I asked “About what? I have already seen it all.”
“I’m here to warn you, use cation! I know Hyne Priests” he looked around again, as if Diablos was sitting in the seat right next to his,” got you into a SeeD deal, but don’t go there blindly on your grudge towards Seifer!”
“Why? I managed to get out of even a direct gattling gun fire from Selphie, and she was in Ragnarok, so why shouldn’t I just slip by this one too?”
“Squall, it’s not that simple!”
Simplicity had never been a part of my situation, Zell.
“I think it is. I know it’s not simply pleasant, though. I’ll go putting wrists to razors for some people, and that won’t make a pretty sight.” I smiled, but my expression surely was the expression of that blue-eyed maniac killer who had taken Rinoa away from me.
“Truly, man, chill!” Zell looked around yet once more. Fear was forcing his voice, I could notice the change. “Man, take it easy on yourself, okay? If you get dead, then what will be left as-“ he stopped “I can’t tell you that, but-“
“Oh shut your trap!” I cut him off.
‘I can’t tell you that’. Was that the most popular sentence, the trend of the longest night? Everyone but me shared a secret, and I was left out of their inner circle, and whenever I got to the borders, they pulled out their secret weapon:’I can’t tell you that’.
If you don’t tell me anything, then I’ll just have to beat it out of you.
“If you can’t tell me that don’t tell me anything! I don’t even know why you’re here in the first place!”
“Here to warn you, man!” his voice sounded extremely tense, and nervous, almost in fear.
“WARN ME CORRECTLY THEN!” I snapped.
“Okay okay, I’ll try.” He said “Look, you’re used as a pawn, okay? You have no idea how big this chess game is. You have absolutely no frickin’ idea!”
“Cut the bullshit.” I said “And tell me the naked truth, in a plain way, or just go to hell!”
My rage was erupting from me, just like his fear, and I knew it, and I enjoyed it. Rage gave me strenght and cleared my mind more than any dosages of Stealth could.
“Look, there’s a project, I found it’s files in Balamb Network Archives. Something major, even C.O.N.C.E.A.L., the Esthar Secret Service is involved in it! It’s something about sorceresses.”
“Truly, Zell, that was plain. What’s the name of the project?”
And the train of my sanity went off it’s tracks, unleashing hell for those like me, who had merely been standing it’s way.
Madness, they called it, I named it a clear and steadily thinking mind. So SeeD had been a project... And our lives was wasted away in the project as well.
“Look, man I can’t tell you anything more, I got to go, just-“ he dug deep into his pocket. For a moment, I hoped he would give me my salvation, free of charge. A release from this ice prison of lies.
It turned out to be a piece of paper, with a number scribbled on it.
777 73 33 33
“Now, when all else fails, find a phone and call this number, this will help you out! I gotta go!” he ran off. I had this wierd feeling, like a warning, made the hair on the back of my neck rising up, telling me I was about to get caught or get capped.
Call it sixth sense.
But I decided to call it Deus Ex Machina, “God’s Business”.
The phone near the cabin rang. I almost jumped on it. I picked it up, knowing perfectly well, that it was either Saladin or NTH.
“It’s me, NTH! Look, you gotta get off the train, NOW!”
“What? Timber Plains is more dangerous for me!”
“Someone tipped G.L.E. off on your whereabouts, dammit! They’re on their way!”
I heard some sounds in a cabin way backwards. Someone cursing, a woman screaming. A child crying, for all I could hear or care. So NTH decided to warn me, and to put me out of this mess, with a more-or-less early warning.
I took a glance outside, we were passing through plain land, no cities, no towns, no houses. Maybe a few fishing houses nearby the sea, but nothing more that could be counted in as a ‘habitation’.
The cabin doors slid open, leading two G.L.E. officers inside.
“G.L.E.! FREEZE!” one screamed as he connected his wrist guns. I shielded my face with my arms and jumped out of the window. One bullet just scraped my leg, but the rest didn’t touch me, and I fell onto a rather soft ground.
I was still alive and free. I couldn’t belive it. There were no stars in the sky, but suddenly, I believed there could be a superior being. Two good things had happened in one hour.
Deus Ex Machina, like I said.
Part Four: Dark Messenger
I came in from the mud and the dark, outside, the land was a cruel monster, mercilessly soaring over me like the dark swarms of my own troubles.
Timber was as flashy as it was cracked up to be, as everyone knew. For a town under the iron fist of Galbadia, I could say Timber was heaven on earth.
But I had already lived through a dark day in heaven, and I still wasn’t ready to give in to comfort. I just rented out a car, and then traveled my way to Winhill. It took me a three hour trip to reach to the damn town, and the fuel tank was half drained by then.
It had started to rain, white snow was turning into mud. I got out of the car and started at Winhill.
It would’ve been the bliss for me. They didn’t have any televisions there, or even a newspaper. A quiet little town, the heavens for those who do not wish to be found, who need aid.
Heavens for me.
But I wasn’t here for the fun of it. I adjusted my trenchcoat and gripped LionHeart tight. I wasn’t letting go of my weapon. The rain was falling down. I raised my head to the sky, let my hair get damp with rain, my skin cleaned, my soul half-cleaned of all the darkness and the sins I carried on till here. I thought about nothing. No thought, logic, worry, dark and gloomy thought existed.
I felt the darkness wash away, the pain wash away. I existed in heaven. But then, when it ended, my burden felt heavier.
I was moving through the town like a ghost in the rain. I was just a dim reflection in a dark window pane. I was the dark messenger, and my message was only to those who had sold their souls to Diablos, and made my life living hell. Those with ideals, priorities.
I reached the manor. The manor that was right across the town square. The manor would be their place. They had told me so. “The Trio” had been the pack of assassins Brox Sulva had been using. The dark messengers he had been using against me. And I then realised how uncivilised we still were. It was going to be short. It would always be short. We would all enter there, four people. The odds were that, either I alone would walk out, or one of them would, as the rest would stay there with me.
Place your bets, because stakes were running high.
I opened up the doors, and the warm, candle-lit hall greeted me. Grinning visciously like Diablos himself, offering me all sorts of chances. Revenge. Life. Satisfaction. Releasing from my suffering.
But also, it was all or nothing.
I saw three figures up there, on top of the stairs, waiting for me.
“You shouldn’tve came here, ya know.” Said one of the figures, as the other one screeched as
So much for being sane.
And the third figure striked me more horrifying than Fujin and Raijin. Of course, they were the hencmen of Seifer, doing whatever he tells them to do, like a puppet. But the third figure wasn’t Seifer.
“Who are you?” I asked to the guy in White SeeD uniform, standing in the middle of Fujin and Raijin.
“Brox Sulva...” he said, smiling and bowing down. He had a gunblade in hand, the handle just like a sawed-off shotgun, and double blades to match the double barrels.
My world crushed down on me again. It was as if Dollet Communication Tower had weak roots, and it had just crumbled down on me, crushing me down underneath the wrecks. Brox Sulva... The name clicked into place like a bullet being inserted to the store of LionHeart. He was the leader of White SeeD.
“Well, as Raijin has put, you shouldn’tve came here.” Brox said. I wasn’t staring at his face, I had concentrated. I was just like Diablos- reaching out to the darkness to cover it on my soul, and crush it down to those before me.
“Let’s get it ON!” I said, as I raised LionHeart. Fujin threw her shrukien. I couldn’t believe how I did it later on, but with one swift move, I sliced the thing into two pieces. I smiled, Lady Luck must’ve thought I was cute.
My smile vanished as Raijin jumped off right in front of me, and Fujin pulled out double circular blades, as well as Brox Sulva charging at me.
I ducked down Brox’s straight movement, and had to leap backwards to avoid both Fujin’s circular blades and Raijin’s battle rod. I landed on my back and then managed to get up to my feet, right before the battle rod swinging from upwards to downwards. I ducked sideways, and swung LionHeart. It slashed Raijin’s shoulder, and as he screamed, Fujin came at me with a complex kick and circular blade swinging method. It was martial arts, and that was Zell’s call, not mine.
I recieved a kick and then dangered my head being cut off. I then managed to stop one of the blades and kicked her squarely on her patched eye, sending her back. I leant forward and swung LionHeart to my back, sensing Brox attacking. I blocked the move, and then swung my foot backwards, and kicked him on the chest, left him breathless and broke a rib.
Raijin attacked. I took no notice of him. I just stung LionHeart sideways and slashed his battle rod, and then I just slided towards him, one hand on his back, my sword slashing through him.
Brox ran upstairs to a room. I didn’t care where he was, as long as he was alive, I would come after him, and he knew it.
It was just me and Fujin.
She looked up to me. I didn’t really hate her- how could you hate someone who had shown you that hell was on earth? She was just a pawn in this sick chess game.
“RAGE!” she screeched.
“Why?” I asked, simply. It was simple now, simple as a gunblade. Simpler than death.
“ORDERS!” she said.
“Goodbye.” I replied. She somehow welcomed the blow. I was feeling merciful for one time, and I acted upon my soldier instincts, ending her life with one simple slash. She fell down, blood coming out of her wounds.
I felt a shiver on my spine. Was it relief? No, peace and relief was forever foresaken from me.
Part Five: Messiah Of Diablos
Suddenly, what was left for me became just the realisation of here and now. I noticed the bodies of the posse. Without empty eyes this time, sparing me of all the darkness coming up on me.
Brox Sulva was upstairs. He was in one of the rooms. I had seen him enter the room in the middle, but that was only before I killed Raijin.
One way or the other, he had failed, and as the messiah of Diablos, I had a job to do. My ultimate purpose had been to take Brox Sulva out, get my justifiable revenge.
But revenge would’ve been the sweetest of all that could’ve happened to me. I was left in the middle of Sorceress War with just a broken gunblade. I was just like a Chicobo, begging help from Grand Mantis.
And when a pack of Grand Mantis charged, it was time for the little Chicobo to grow up.
I took it slow, remembring everything I had been through. Death, cheap as bullets... It came to Quistis, Rinoa, Irvine... Elise, even... And I was the angel of death for quite some time now, taking out anyone between me and my goal. I was calm. I wasn’t panicking by rage, I wasn’t blinded by fury. The curtains were open for me for this one time.
I stepped on to the stairs, as the phone nearby me rang. I knew it would be urgent. Somehow, the two people who would call me would call in the most inappropriate moments. I picked it up.
“Squall?” it was NTH.
“Whatever does it for you.”
“Hurry. An Estharian helicopter is approaching, it’s packed with C.O.N.C.E.A.L. recruits! Hurry up if you wanna do something!”
“I would say let’s throw a party.” I replied and hung up. As I took another step, the phone rang again.
“Am I speaking to Squall Leonhart?”
“Who wants to know?”
“Saladin. Whatever you do, do it fast. Esthar forces are approaching.”
“I already know that. Tell me something I don’t know.”
“You are not their target.” And then he hung up on me, leaving me there in confusion.
I rushed up to the top floor, the stairs almost melting underneath my feet. I didn’t have time, time was short.
Then I understood how Ultimecia must’ve felt. Time. It was the only thing we ran out of, if not pain. I was running out of time, Brox Sulva was running out of time. I couldn’tve squeezed the clocks, time would still fly right out the window like the sun.
“He’s here...” came Brox’s voice “He’s here, you hear me!? Do whatever you can, but KILL HIM!”
I kicked the door open, gunblade in hand. Brox Sulva jumped up at the sight of his end stepping in from the door. I pointed at the phone, and said “Fira!”, and then the phone exploded, just like the bomb that had turned my life upside down.
Brox Sulva had been threatening the only one who can help him, the smart thing to do. Messiah Of Diablos at his gates, and he was just too smart to stay there and not run.
“No, please...” he begged, “He made an offer I couldn’t refuse. He’s high up. Maybe even with C.O.N.C.E.A.L., I don’t completely know...”
He was trying to keep his life expectancy long. But I was getting impatient.
I didn’t have to.
The windows broke and some people in black uniforms stormed inside, as the one entered the last pulled on the trigger of his machine gun, spilling blood all over the place, hitting Brox Sulva fairly on the chest. I knew I was outnumbered.
The man with the machine gun took a little trank gun and shot me on my main vein. It wasn’t poison, it was worse than that.
He had just given me the most addictive and dangerous drug, making himself damn sure he had just showered me with his bullets.
“Okay, we’re done here” the man with the machine gun said “Let’s head back to Inner Circle.”
They went out, and my view spin. Some red colour infested my vision.