He aimed his rifle at me, ready to shoot as I sat on my ass, staring death right in the face. I thought this was the end of the road for me. And so, I closed my eyes, ready to accept my fate. What else could I do anyway?
By the time he pulled the trigger, the gun jammed. I wasn’t sure why, but it did. Maybe he was out of bullets. I opened my eyes again, and there he was, struggling with the damn thing.
Then, it happened.
A figure appeared out of nowhere and speared into him in a flash. The two men crashed to the floor and then rolled back to their feet.
The newcomer moved so fast I could barely see his face. He kicked the gun away and began throwing heavy punches and kicks at the assailant.
From where I was on the floor, this wasn’t a fight. No. It was an execution. The newcomer was faster, hit harder, and seemed to have more combat experience.
His blows were so powerful that within the first few seconds, his opponent was already destabilized. The assailant tried to throw his first punch, but my savior trapped his hand in a single sweep.
He twisted, and then….
Crack!
The man cried out in pain as his arm was snapped like a twig. While he stumbled backward in pain, a strong kick to his chest sent him crashing through the window.
The glass shattered at the impact, and the man fell off, his voice fading by the second as he plummeted down.
Silence.
I swallowed hard when my savior turned around, and I saw his face. It was him. My captor.
He didn’t ask if I was okay; he just scanned me for a second and asked, “Can you walk?”
I nodded, heart racing in my heaving chest.
“Let’s go.”
I took his outstretched hand, and he helped me up.
“Stay close to me.” He held my hand and led me out of the library.
A pistol was held up in front of him as we walked down the hallway. Corpses sprawled across the floor, and the walls were stained with blood and human brains.
The sight made me so nauseous that I almost puked.
“Artur!” a man bellowed at the top of his voice.
That was it. That was his name. I knew it began with an A.
Artur stopped in his tracks and pulled me behind him, his gun aimed right ahead. A tall, muscular man rounded a corner with an assault rifle in his hand.
His face was marked with scars, but I still recognized him. It was the man I stood up for, the one I begged Artur not to kill in the basement.
“You’ve gone soft, Artur Tarasov.” The man stopped a few feet in front of us, a pesky smirk playing on his cracked lips. “You should’ve killed me when you had the chance. But instead, you chose to listen to that whore of yours.” He let out a quiet chuckle. “How pathetic.”
Whore? You ungrateful son of a bitch!
I fuckin’ saved your life, and this is how you repay me?
I was angry and disappointed at myself at the same time.
“You did this?” Artur growled, his tone laced with fury. “You led these animals into my home?”
“This is a cemetery, Artur!” he barked. “It’s a fuckin’ graveyard, not a home!”