From Prisoner To God Of War

Redhot Battle In The Bunker

“Men at the refinery have been slaughtered and soldiers have surrounded the area. Onlookers mentioned one man slaughtered them all.

“What fucking one man are you talking about?” Carlos yelled, “Who the hell is the man, huh? ask questions. “How can soldiers surround the refinery? Does the man know who I am? That is absolute nonsense!”

“Sir, all I can see written on the wall is Keep off god of war returns. This is mysterious. Who is against us?” the thug said form the other said.

“Do your verifications and keep me posted,” Carlos said and hung up to pick up another call.

Behind him were about five strippers, busty with thick hips and alluring curves massaging him, while the others dipped his legs in warm water and two others poured his wine.

On the other end was his wife, Isabella, being massaged by heavily-armed, six packed thugs with threatening heights and fierce eyes.

“Yeah, what is it?” he asked, once he picked up.

“Boss there is trouble. We have lost the casino. A dare-devil bogey man stormed the house and slaughtered everyone like a beast leaving the casino in flames.”

“What the fuck is happening, man?” Carlos  fumed, “Now I hired you bigots and gave you the best of arsenal. I am sure I own the strongest security outfit, and you allow some weakling to beat the hell out of you and you feel proud to say it?”

“No, no…”

Bam!

The thunderous arrival through the roof left them shattered as they flinched and the thugs grabbed their rifles and pointed at the intruder.

Already the phone had left his phone and dashed on the floor, while he gaped at the unwanted guest.

Dimming his eyes, he couldn’t recognize him. “Who are you?” he queried.

The Lucas he once knew was a skinny boyish fellow who could barely raise a pound of stone, but the figure before him was that of a heavily tatted man with large biceps and heavy chest, broader shoulders and towering height.

The gutsy looks of Lucas could make one pee on himself.

Carlos!” he groaned, “I am back,” he groaned and tossed a blade at Isabella and instantly her head dropped by her side.

“Hey, what the fuck! Isabella! Isabella!” he shook her headless body, wailing.

And his men opened fire immediately. Thinking they had killed him, Lucas smiled evilly and opened his arm, letting all the bullets to clank on the floor.

“Jesus wept!” one of the thugs exclaimed and quickly they began to pull back, cocking their rifles.

“You slaughtered my parents, took their corpses, burned down our house, snatched our crude oil land, and kidnaped my pregnant wife. Start talking, where is Alicia and the remains of my parents?”

He pulled out his silver-glistening blade.

“Hold on, Lucas please, don’t do this!” he went down on his knees, hands trembling, body quaking. “Let’s negotiate, we will make a lot of money. Please take a seat.”

Lucas sent his first blow and one of his arm chopped off and dropped on the floor.

“Ah! Motherfucker! Shit! Oh shit! Please, please,” Carlos exclaimed, shivering on the floor, “Why are you standing and staring. Shoot him”” he ordered his thugs.

Immediately they opened fire again and Lucas leaped into the ceiling. They raised their rifles and opened fire at the ceiling.

To their dismay, he stormed behind them and with a furious fast blow, his blade chopped off their heads.

 Already Carlos was dialing some numbers on the phone, calling more guards for back up.

“Where is Alicia, and the remains of my parents?” Lucas asked and his boot thudded on the floor as he approached his offender. He grabbed his neck and began to squeeze his throat.

“And who are your allies in the refinery, start talking.” He sent a punch in his belly and he threw up instantly.

“Only if you promise to keep me alive,” Carlos gasped and added, “Rodrigo Fernandez,” he struggled to call.

And just then more guards stormed the room and opened fire, and in a swift counterattack, he opened his psalms and collected all their bullets and tossed back at them.

“Who the hell is that guy, man?” one of them asked.

Lucas still holding Carlos on the throat, sent a diving kick at the first guard, targeting his balls and he peed on himself.

He dazed a sweeping kick across the rest and they slammed into the glass wall.

Carlos was already bitterly frustrated so he picked up a gun and blasted his brain.

“No, no, where is my wife?” Lucas asked, holding his bloodied face.

“You…you will never find her,” Carlos stuttered and gave up.

“Shit!” Lucas snapped and turned his gaze to the troop of guards running upstairs to face him.

Five of them barged in and he grabbed their heads and smashed on the wall before raising them on his shoulders and tossed at the rest.

He pulled out his sword and every gunshot they aimed at him was shielded with the vigor of his blade.