You Won’t Survive
last update2025-07-17 23:57:23

Jimmy watched Dane. It was the eyes—eyes of someone who wasn’t just confident, but carried something deeper. This wasn’t arrogance. It was something else.

“We’ve been talking for too long,” Jimmy said. “Well, today’s the day. You’re not going to survive. I’m sure of that.”

Dane interrupted. “Okay. We’ll see. We’ll see if I survive or not.”

Both of them stood up. They moved closer until their boots were almost touching. Their fists were clenched, and they faced each other with silent tension.

“So you think I’m not going to survive?” Dane asked.

“I don’t think you’re just going to fail,” Jimmy said. “Let me be clear—you’re going to die. You’ll die on this mission, and I’ll be the one attending your funeral.”

“You fool,” Dane snapped. “Who the hell do you think you are, you bastard? You smell like shit.”

Dane tightened his fist, ready to throw a punch at Jimmy. But just then, a knock sounded on the door.

Both men froze.

“Who is it?” Jimmy asked.

“It’s me—Jota,” the voice answered. “You c
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  • Ride or Die

    “I have to do something about this,” Dane muttered under his breath, eyes fixed on the table, though his thoughts were already a mile away. “We can’t keep sitting around like this. We have to move. We have to act.”He slid his empty teacup aside and stood slowly. The café was quiet, tucked away in a sleepy alley, far from the chaos of the ship. It was the only place he could breathe. But even here, trouble always had a way of finding him.He stepped outside.The air had cooled since sunset, and a soft breeze stirred the dust in the street. His bike waited across the road, leaning slightly to one side like it had been waiting too long.“One ride. Just one. Then I’ll head back,” he said to himself. He stepped off the curb, tightening the strap of his leather jacket.Then he heard it.Engines.Low and deep at first—then louder.He turned his head slightly, eyes narrowing.Four motorcycles rumbled down the narrow road, kicking up dust as they rolled past the café’s entrance. Riders in bla

  • Alone

    Earlier that day, Dane had quietly stepped out of Butcher’s office, tension still clinging to his shoulders. The ship was too loud, too crowded, and his mind needed air.Back in his quarters, he changed into something casual—black jacket, dark jeans, leather gloves. He laced up his boots, grabbed his helmet, and walked out with purpose.As he reached his bike on the lower deck, he paused.“Let me go for a ride,” he said under his breath.The last time he’d tried to leave the ship, Butcher had called a surprise meeting with the Governor. So he stayed. But now?Now felt different.He glanced at the waves crashing against the dock below. A thought crept in.“There’s still a chance… Leo might make a move on me if I leave the ship.”He weighed the risk, jaw clenched.“Screw it.” He muttered. “I’m not hiding.”He swung his leg over the bike, kicked it to life, and rolled out into the open road. The wind hit his face like a slap of reality.Twenty minutes later, Dane pulled up to a small roa

  • Paper to Power

    After the last of the gunshots faded into silence and the van carrying Leo and his men disappeared into the night, Dane lowered his weapon and stood still among the bodies and scattered bullet shells. Smoke lingered in the air. His jaw clenched with fury.Without a word, he turned and stormed toward Butcher’s office.He didn’t bother knocking.“Sir,” Dane said, his voice sharp as he stepped inside. “That was a strike. A coordinated one. They came out of nowhere. Leo’s men hit us before we even knew what was happening.”Butcher, sitting behind his desk with a glass of something dark in his hand, didn’t flinch. He looked calm—almost too calm.“Should we go after him?” Dane pressed. “Strike now, before he vanishes again?”Butcher swirled the drink in his glass and gave a slow shake of his head.“No,” he said. “Not yet.”Dane blinked. “Sir—”“There’s still something I need to clarify,” Butcher cut in. “The Governor sent me a form… a declaration. Something we need to sign before we make ou

  • Ambush

    The ship was usually quiet in the mornings, save for the hum of the engines and the creak of steel against the river’s slow current.But not today.Dane woke suddenly, heart already racing. Before he was even fully conscious, he could hear the noise—distant yelling, the unmistakable echo of gunfire. It wasn’t a drill.He threw the blanket off and reached for his pistol on the nightstand. He pressed his ear to the metal door.More shouting. A scream. Then a staccato burst of bullets.He swung the door open and stepped into the hallway.Blood.Two of Butcher’s men lay crumpled just a few feet away, red spilling across the grated floor. One of them was still twitching, gasping. Another had a blade embedded in his throat.“Shit,” Dane muttered, stepping back, flattening himself against the wall.Then he saw them—Leo’s men.They moved like shadows, dressed in black tactical gear, faces half-covered with scarves. One kicked open a nearby door while the others moved down the hall, checking r

  • What the Forest Took

    It was already getting dark.The sky above the trees bled orange into deepening purple. Crickets had started chirping. The forest was quiet now, but the silence was heavier than before—like it had seen too much blood, too many ghosts.The clock on the SUV dashboard read 7:03 PM.Dane gripped the wheel, knuckles white, eyes fixed ahead. Jane sat beside him, staring at the distant lights that shimmered over the riverbank—the ship was waiting.They sped down the dirt road, gravel crackling beneath the tires, until the trees thinned out and the ship came into view. It was massive, docked in the shadows like a steel beast—quiet and powerful.They parked. Got out. Neither spoke.Two guards stepped aside to let them pass. Dane opened the back of the SUV and pulled out a waterproof briefcase—the $5 billion cheque, the only thing left. The sack of cash was gone, vaporized in that explosion. But this… this was everything now.They boarded.Inside the ship’s operations room, Butcher was waiting.

  • Fortune

    Dane emerged from behind the tree like a bullet fired from a chamber—rage etched across his face.The memory of the exploding cash, shredded in an instant, fueled his fury. That money wasn’t just paper—it was power, protection, freedom. And now it burned in the forest air like it never existed.He raised his gun.Pop! Pop! Pop!Three shots rang out in quick succession. The forest echoed back with the cries of startled birds. Leaves ripped apart. Bark shattered. One of the young men in bandanas staggered backward, barely dodging the bullets.The other two raised their rifles—but Dane didn’t hesitate.With a smooth flick of his wrist, he reached into his vest and pulled out a grenade. He pulled the pin with his teeth.“You want explosions?” he growled. “Let me return the favor.”He tossed the grenade forward.It arced through the air like a glowing promise of death.One of the men turned to run—but Dane was already tracking him.He pulled the trigger again.The shot hit the runner in th

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