2026-01-21 09:00:37The rainstorm pounding Brooklyn Harbor that night masked everything. But for David Vexley, stepping out of his black Maserati, the scent of death hung heavy in the air, overpowering the smell of brine and rusting containers.
David’s phone vibrated in his suit pocket. A message from Elena.[Elena: Contact lost with Warehouse 4 ten minutes ago. That holds the 'special' illegal arms cargo. Be careful, Darling.]David didn’t reply. He pocketed his phone and activated hi
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Finding the Flaw in the Dark
"They drove right past our yard, Dave. Silas's pickup trucks kept going north toward the smoke rising from their old warehouse," Elena whispered, her breath hitching. She released her grip on the worn window curtain, her body slumping in relief against the wooden wall.David, lying blind on the mattress, could only listen to the roar of the V8 engines slowly fading away. His bandaged bare chest rose and fell heavily. Every time he took a breath, the stinging pain from the burned nerves in his spine shot all the way to the base of his neck. His cloudy, milky-white pupils stared blankly at the bedroom ceiling."But there's one person left behind," Elena continued, her tone tense again. "That teenage boy who pointed at our house earlier. He separated from Silas's group and now he's walking into our yard."David clenched his fists beneath the blanket. "Who is he, El? Describe him to me.""He's young, maybe around seventeen. Very skinny, wearing thick-rimmed g
A Dark World
"Vexley, what is happening over there? Your camera is dead! Answer me, Dog!" Elliot shouted from the communication device still attached to David's right ear.David raised his violently trembling hand, feeling his own ear. He yanked the small device out, crushed it into pieces of plastic and wire, and threw it into a puddle on the asphalt road."Shut your mouth," David hissed between ragged breaths.The warehouse behind him was still burning fiercely. The heat of the fire stung his blistered back, but David's eyes captured only absolute emptiness. Pitch black. He raised both his hands in front of his face. He blinked repeatedly. The result was the same. Total blindness had robbed him of his world."Five miles," David muttered to himself. He swallowed the blood pooling in his throat. "Only five miles to home. I can do this."David turned his body slowly, trying to remember the layout of the dirt road he had taken when riding the motorcycle earlier.
Three Seconds From Hell
"Finish him right now. Show no mercy!" Silas roared from the top of the iron stairs. He issued an absolute command to his dozen human guard dogs.David rolled to the left as a rusty machete struck the concrete floor exactly where he had stood a second ago. He swung his dull hunting knife upward to parry the first attacker's wrist. Quickly, he twisted his body and kicked the man's knee until it broke."One down," David shouted, panting. He grabbed the second man's collar and slammed his face into a stack of bricks."Hit him in the head from behind!" screamed a third gang member. He swung a thick iron chain into the air.David ducked. He punched the man in the solar plexus, then snatched the chain and swung its iron tip into the attacker's jaw. Three men were laid out in less than ten seconds. David's human body was forced to work far beyond its limits of exhaustion."You move like a cheap dancer, Vexley. Dance faster," Elliot's mocking laugh buzzed
Entering the Rust Hound's Lair
"You are insane if you think I can burn this place down without triggering a gang war," David growled softly. He stared into the tiny camera lens hidden in the collar of his black jacket.Elliot's voice crackled through the wireless earpiece, the size of a bean, in David's right ear. "I don't care about your gang war, Vexley. I just want a good Friday night show. Get in there. Burn everything. And make sure your camera is pointed straight. Or do you want to see your wife's heart graph flatline tonight?"David ground his teeth. His still-blistered hand, wrapped in rough bandages, gripped the handle of a hunting knife with a dull blade. In his left pocket were two rolls of silver duct tape. Those were his only weapons tonight. He brought no gun. Gunshots would invite the local police, and dead bodies would invite federal agents. He had to do this like a mortal ghost.The night wind blew cold, carrying the smell of rust and gasoline as David sneaked behind stacks o
Entering the Rust Hound's Lair
"You are insane if you think I can burn this place down without triggering a gang war," David growled softly. He stared into the tiny camera lens hidden in the collar of his black jacket.Elliot's voice crackled through the wireless earpiece, the size of a bean, in David's right ear. "I don't care about your gang war, Vexley. I just want a good Friday night show. Get in there. Burn everything. And make sure your camera is pointed straight. Or do you want to see your wife's heart graph flatline tonight?"David ground his teeth. His still-blistered hand, wrapped in rough bandages, gripped the handle of a hunting knife with a dull blade. In his left pocket were two rolls of silver duct tape. Those were his only weapons tonight. He brought no gun. Gunshots would invite the local police, and dead bodies would invite federal agents. He had to do this like a mortal ghost.The night wind blew cold, carrying the smell of rust and gasoline as David sneaked behind stacks o
Lies at the Dinner Table
"This cold numbing the pain is much better than pity," David muttered softly to himself.He cupped his hands under the rusty water faucet in the backyard of his wooden house. Ice-cold water from the well splashed over his face, which was covered in crusts of dried blood and motor oil stains. The sky in Upstate New York was still dark blue approaching dawn. He rubbed his temple, torn from the wrench strike last night. An incredibly sharp stinging sensation shocked his nerves, but he held back the hiss that almost escaped his lips. He didn't want any sound to penetrate the thin wooden walls of his house and wake Elena or Arthur.David unbuttoned his flannel shirt, torn and soaked in sweat. Under the dim, flickering porch light, a purplish bruise the size of an adult's fist was clearly imprinted on his left ribs. It wasn't a wound from a cosmic battle between gods. It was the footprint of dirty boots belonging to street thugs who once wouldn't even dare speak his name. Th
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