Thrat! Thrat! Thrat!Helicopters descended from the sky, howling the wind dangerously. Not one, not two. But six choppers, bases blinking red into the night like predators on parade death hunt. The helicopters landed in perfect horizontal, on the frontier of Drakhelm city. The night calmed, heavy with something unknown.The door of five helicopters gilded, hissing into the otherwise quiet night. Shortly, out stepped men. Strides calculated, boot thumping loose gravels, leaving unmistakable deep bootprints in the soil.They're military men; Green uniforms that screamed dominance, insignia slapped on their shoulders, demonstrating authority. The men, up to 100 lined in perfect horizontal in front of the last chopper, rifles slung over their shoulder in trained military precision.The door of the last helicopter gilded open and a figure stepped out; Tall, broad shoulder squaring against black long coat that littered with insignias, portraying sovereignty.General Victor Drayke. The war

Viktor drew closer to the unfolding scene. The crowd had disappeared in fear at the first gun shot, some watching the scene with racing hearts from behind cars where they hid, a few muttering silent prayer and nonsense.A woman carrying a crying baby clapped her palm over her mouth to muffle the baby's cry.At the back of a black Audi A6 where two young men hid, blending with the darkness, one of them whispered with a trembling voice. "T...those men, they're called the Grimehands. They always terrorize this area. They've been nabbed by the cops countless times but they always slip away. They don't leave any place they attack until they shed blood." "Damn! That means we're dead! So dead!" The second man whispered back with a voice trembling in panic.The air at the premises of Paradise inn was tense. Staff members of the hotel had locked the entrance out of caution, watching in horror from windows...Some screaming 911 into cell phones.Three men surrounded a young woman clutching a b

“You're one of those parasites in the police force that steps on the lower people's rights.” Elijah continued with a calculated voice.“It's high time people learn that all dust is not gold, and all that glitters might just be dust.” The ward was quiet, his voice carrying but the tension was palpable.Elijah didn't stop, his voice ringing like a preacher's but it wasn't just for salvation but something dangerous.“You slapped my friend and I'm not going to forgive that.” He pointed at the second officer. "You only got lucky because you controlled your lips. Stand!" He growled, low but venomous.The police officer jumped to feet, his face sleak with sweats.“You'll slap him. Once and thunderous just like he did to my friend. You see his face...” He paused, pointing a finger at James. “You'll give him the same look.” He said quietly.The police officer shivered, looking down at Inspector Frank who was a superior officer to him. Hesitation flickered in his eyes.“Are you deaf!!?" Chief J

The ward fell into silence, heart monitor beeping, not for a signal of life but a warning signal.Inspector Frank tensed, his confidence flickering, nearing a crash under the searing gaze of Elijah. James looked at Elijah with a surprising expression, wondering if those words had merely slipped from his tongue or he just blurted it to shake the Feds away, because hearing the way he accentuated the words, it looks really threatening. It wasn't the broken voice of the broke student he knew back in the days. Inspector James took one step closer, his boot thumping. The nervous expression dissolved into a mask of amusement.He chuckled lightly. “What do you say you're going to do again? Call the chief of police? You're a hilarious one.” He laughed maniacally, voice dripping with mockery. “You think you're some kind of powerful ruler who can beacon at the Chief of police just insignificantly? Disrespect for the higher-ups should be added to your crime record!" He hissed with an amusing ed

Crisps deep charcoal suit, Luis Vuitton loafers and a Richard Mille wrist watch scintillated on his wrist. His presence was unmistakable. Derek Vaughn at Century 21.His eyes were droopy from sleepless nights. His father has managed to wipe the videos off Net, but the scars it left was tarred.He came out of his father's office and pulled a call across to the same number he had been calling for an umpteenth time— Clara.He watched the phone ring out. He sighed exhaustively and tapped on the message app. He looked at the flurry of the unreplied messages he had sent to Clara since the incident. He hesitated, his hand hovering over the screen. Nonetheless, he tapped on the screen slowly, going over and over the message he was about to send.“Babe, please forgive me. I couldn't sleep through the night. I'm going to handle the situation. I promise.” He said and clicked on the send icon.He watched the message deliver and let out a heavy tiring sigh. He punched the phone back into his poc