Mercy For None

No One To Save You

“For the past twelve years, you have been trying to kill him, and you have failed continuously,” a man said, exhaling a long stream of cigarette smoke that curled lazily into the air. “He’s to be released tomorrow. Make sure you end his life tonight. Do whatever it takes to kill him, and if you fail this time around, I swear I’m going to skin you alive. This is going to be your last time.”

He paused to draw again on the cigarette,his eyes narrowing his eyes on the man in front of him, the ember flared briefly, illuminating his face in a harsh orange glow.

“Did you know what Henry would do if he got to know that he’s yet to die?” He growled. “You’d better kill him now before he gets out tomorrow. That’s your only chance.”

The other man swallowed hard, his palms damp against his sides.

The smoker stepped back slowly, the sound of his shoes echoing sharply against the corridor’s bare floor. He inhaled the cigarette again before adding, “ I have already bribed the kitchen leader and the officers. One of the officers will lure him to the kitchen. Make sure you kill him this time around. I have given you enough chances. If you disappoint me this time around, I will kill you myself”.

“Finish the job tonight and don’t make any more mistakes. I’m counting on you, Blade. Your previous attempts to kill him have always ended with the officers intervening, suspicion rising, and only minor and serious injuries. This time the officers or any other people won’t stand in your way. And I don’t want him injured, I want him dead.”

Blade stood firm before him, bowing respectfully to the man in front of him.

“Noted, sir,” Blade replied, his voice low and confident. “I will finish him tonight. You have my word”.

The man drew in one last drag from the cigarette, smoke curling between them like a veil.

“That’s good,” he muttered, a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. “The officer will lock the kitchen door behind him after luring him inside. This is your only chance to end his life. Don’t disappoint me, Blade.”

“I won’t. I promise you.”

The man threw the cigarette on the floor, crushing it under his heel. Suddenly, a voice echoed through the prison’s microphone system, and both of them lifted their heads.

“All prisoners are to gather in the field now. You have just five minutes. Gather in the field now.”

The man straightened his coat and muttered.

“The officers have already taken a move. It’s time.”

Meanwhile, Riley was sitting in his room, the pages of an old newspaper rustling softly between his fingers. As the officer’s voice echoed, he stood up, folded the paper carefully, and slid it under the table. He then rose to his feet, his joints stiff from sitting too long.

As he stood, he moved closer to the standing glass, gazing at his reflection for a few seconds before letting out a light chuckle.

“Finally free,” he muttered to himself, his voice barely above a whisper. His once handsome face had become hollow over the years, while his once dark and thick hair had turned grey. He shifted his weight awkwardly, raising a hand to his face with his rough hands.

The officer’s voice echoed again through the speaker.

“Get out now. Get out now!. Everyone should move to the field now. You have less than three minutes”.

Riley let out a deep breath. Without hesitation, he rubbed his palms together, feeling the dry skin rasp, and whispered again under his breath.

“Finally.”

He jolted out of the room and began walking toward the open field behind the block. As he moved, the shuffle of boots on the tile echoed like marching insects on dry leaves, while Riley kept his eyes fixed on the light at the far end of the long corridor.

“Hey,” a voice called behind him, catching his attention.

He stopped immediately and turned around. To his surprise, an officer stood at the doorway to the kitchen, one hand resting on the doorframe.

“Before you go out to the field,” the officer said, “you’ll need to step into the kitchen for a moment.”

Riley started walking toward him, his shoes echoing in the corridor. When he was a step away, he stopped.

“But I’m not part of the kitchen management committee, and besides, we were told to go to the field now.”

“Yeah, I know all that,” the officer responded. “But this is just a quick stop, and it won’t take much of your time. Go inside now, and you’ll be told what to do next.”

Riley hesitated for a moment. “I really should…”

Before he could finish, the officer caught his shoulder and pulled him closer.

“I said,” the officer murmured, his voice still low, “step into the kitchen.”

“But I really should go to the…”

Without hesitation, the officer slammed Riley’s head against the wall. Before anyone could notice, he dragged him into the kitchen, stepped back out, and locked the door.

“That’s where you’ll meet your end,” the officer said, a faint smile curling at the corner of his lips as he walked away.

As Riley staggered to his feet in the kitchen, he saw a man standing only a few steps away, holding a knife.

“It’s you again,” Riley muttered under his breath, his eyes fixed on the man. “So now you’re walking hand in hand with the officers to end my life.”

The man laughed loudly, tightening his grip on the knife.

“You’ve been lucky for the last twelve years,” Blade said. “You’ve only walked away with minor and major injuries. But today, no one will save you.”

Tilting his head slightly, he added, “And there’s no officer here to protect you. Before your release tomorrow, I will use this knife to design your body”.

“Wh…why do you want to end my life?” Riley asked, brushing his hair back with a trembling hand.

Blade chuckled and stepped forward with his right foot.

“You’ll know all of that in heaven.”

Riley’s gaze darted around the kitchen. When Blade was just two steps away from Riley, he stopped suddenly, his boots clicking softly on the tiles.

“Twelve years of chasing you, dude. You will surely die today.”

“Come on," Riley muttered, forming a fist with his hands. “What’s stopping you from attacking me?”

Riley immediately moved his hand to the edge of a table, taking the heavy wooden spoon next to a chopping board. Curling his fingers around the handle, he signaled to Blade to advance toward him.

“That won’t help you. You’re still shaking.”

“You haven’t tasted it yet. Sometimes shaking hands can strike the hardest.”

At his words, Blade lunged forward immediately, swinging the knife downward. Riley jerked back a little, the knife cutting his forearm. He hissed through his teeth.

“First blood,” Blade murmured, withdrawing the knife and circling to the left. “You will see your end today.”

Riley exhaled sharply, holding the spoon tightly. He darted forward suddenly, striking the spoon’s handle against Blade’s wrist. Blade grunted and stumbled back a step, his knife hand jerking involuntarily, and he suffered a cut in the process.

“Damn you,” Blade hissed, his eyes narrowing at him as blood started dripping slowly between his fingers.

“You see?” Riley muttered. “Shaking hands can strike hardest.”

Blade flexed his injured hand, his jaw tightening.

Blade’s eyes flared with fury. He shifted the knife to his uninjured hand and rolled his shoulders, his breathing heavy.

“Do you think a spoon and a quip will save you?” he growled.

Riley bent his knees slightly, poising the spoon like a short club. “You’re bleeding already,” he said. “And this is just the start.”

Blade lunged forward again, feinting left before slashing across Riley’s midsection. Riley twisted, the blade grazing his shirt slightly. Riley snapped his wrist and cracked the spoon across Blade’s temple. Blade reeled, gritting his teeth, but he swung a vicious backhand with the knife.

Riley ducked low, the knife whistling inches above his head, and moved his shoulder into Blade’s torso. Both of them crashed against the counter, utensils clattering to the floor, and the heavy spoon broke completely in Riley's hand. Seeing this, he tossed the shards aside and took a cast-iron pan from the stove.

Blade quickly moved the knife toward Riley again, but Riley raised the pan in time, the knife hitting the heavy iron and bouncing back. Blade snarled, trying to yank the knife free, but Riley shoved forward, ramming the edge of the pan into Blade’s ribs.

Blade staggered back a little, his grip loosening on the knife.

Without hesitation, Blade lashed out at Riley, the kick catching Riley on the thigh and making him stagger. He then took a kitchen stool with his free hand and hurled it across the room. Riley ducked, and instead of the stool hitting him, it hit the fridge.

Riley darted sideways, grabbing a dish towel and whipping it around Blade’s knife arm. Then he yanked it downward. Blade cursed, wrenching against the hold, but Riley twisted, tightening the towel until the knife fell to the ground.

Seeing this, Blade hit Riley's ribs with his right hand, and Riley gasped, retaliating by hitting Blade in the jaw. Seizing the opportunity, Riley moved his leg behind Blade's leg, lifting him up and shoving him away.

Blade's back hit the tile, and he started groaning, scrambling for the fallen knife, but before he could reach it, Riley kicked it away.

“Is this all you can do?” Riley asked.

“I waited twelve years for this,” Blade rasped, blood oozing from his lips. “I don’t care what it costs.”

Riley stepped closer to him, the cast-iron pan still in his hand like a shield. “Then you’ve waited twelve years to lose.”

All of a sudden, Blade stood up on his feet and lunged forward at Riley with his bare hand, aiming for Riley's throat. Riley pivoted, hooking Blade's hand and slamming him against the cabinet. The pan dropped with a heavy clang as Riley decided to switch his hands, and he locked Blade's arm behind his back.

With his free hand, Riley grabbed the pepper grinder from the counter and drove it into Blade’s ribs twice, making him groan in pain.

“Stay down,” Riley warned.

Blade wheezed, still fighting to rise. “Never.”

Riley hooked his foot under Blade’s ankle and twisted it, making him fall again. Then he pressed a knee on his back.

“You’re finished,” Riley said quietly. “It’s over for you now.”

“You’ve gotten better,” Blade muttered, laughing mockingly at Riley.

Blade groaned, rolling onto his side. Riley gently picked up the knife from the corner and tossed it onto the counter. Blade stood up on his feet, his boots leaving faint squeaks on the tile while blood dripped from his hand, spattering the tile.

“But you’re still slow,” he rasped.

Riley adjusted slightly before responding, “Then you should’ve seen that one coming,” he replied.

Suddenly, Blade kicked a chair toward Riley, the chair skidding across the tiles and forcing Riley to step back. Without hesitation, Blade picked up another knife from the table and charged toward Riley, aiming at his ribs. Riley moved back a little before running toward Blade, holding the pan firmly in his hand.

All of a sudden, he crouched down and hit Blade with the pan. Then he kicked him hard in the stomach several times before jumping on him, hitting his face continuously.

Blade lay crumpled, blood smeared across the tiles. Riley exhaled, standing up on his feet and putting the pan on the counter. Then he turned toward the door, his boots leaving red streaks as he walked.

All of a sudden, Blade managed without catching Riley's attention. Then he took a long knife from the table and, with the last of his strength, he flung the knife.

But… but before Riley could even notice, the knife… the knife had already…..