2024-11-09 08:20:26
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Trillionaire's Warpath
Scott staggered backwards, a thick trail of blood trickling from the corner of his lips. He raised his trembling hand and wiped it off with the back of his sleeve, then slowly returned his gaze to the man standing menacingly opposite him."This isn’t just an ordinary man..." he mused inwardly, his eyes narrowed and locked on the towering figure before him. "This is a trained killer."Scott’s fists clenched tightly, knuckles whitening as he slid back into a fighting stance. He had assumed earlier that this man was just like the rest of them—slow, weak, and brittle under pressure. But he had been wrong. Dead wrong. This man wasn’t like them.He was different.Stronger. Faster. Sharper.Taking him down wouldn’t be easy—not even close.The man opposite him let out a deafening war cry, a primal roar that echoed across the hallway like a call to death, before charging forward with incredible speed.Scott stood his ground, muscles tensing as the man closed the distance in the blink of an eye
A trained killer
"Bring down the fucking door!" one of Mohammed’s comrades bellowed audibly.Two towering, muscular men took several steps back from the door, bracing themselves, then charged forward with thunderous momentum, slamming their broad shoulders into it. The wooden frame groaned under the impact, but it held firm.Frustrated, they moved back again, this time with more aggression. They let out a unified battle cry and kicked the door together with all their might. Still, the door refused to break open.“Fuck it,” the same man cursed, raising his gun and pointing it directly at the handle. He fired a single, deafening shot.BANG!The bullet tore through the lock, mangling it completely. The door creaked open slightly. With a grunt of exertion, he kicked it open with a loud crash, and they all stormed into the bathroom, guns raised and fingers resting on the triggers.But the moment they stepped in, they froze simultaneously. Puzzled expressions swept across their faces.Scott was nowhere to b
Bloodshed in the Sanctuary
“Scott Carden! We meet again.” Mohammed’s voice echoed throughout the vast church like thunder rolling through a canyon. “There’s no point in fighting back or running. You’re outnumbered... and surrounded. This is the end for you, Scott Carden. You won’t escape this time. You’re going to die—right here, in this church.”Scott swallowed hard as the words washed over him like a wave of doom. His breathing deepened. He swiftly detached the magazine from the MP5 and examined it under the dim restroom light.Half full.Dozens of men were only a few meters away—and he was almost out of bullets.“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, sliding the magazine back in with a sharp click and cocking the gun. His eyes darted to the golden Rolex on his wrist.His men should’ve been here by now.Where the hell were they?He clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth. Until they arrived, he had to survive. But it would be a challenge to fend off armed men with only a few rounds left—and nothing but his fist
Crossfire in the chapel
Scott kept pacing back and forth in the restroom, his heart racing, sweat pouring down his face and soaking the collar of his black shirt. His breathing was shallow, his nerves coiled tight with tension.Suddenly, the door slammed open with a loud BANG, crashing against the tiled wall—and in stepped a towering man.He stood at least six feet tall, built like a professional bodybuilder, with bulging muscles that threatened to tear through his black combat attire. In his grasp was an MP5 submachine gun, its muzzle glinting under the restroom’s fluorescent light.Scott froze the second the man entered, his gaze locking on him like a hawk spotting its prey."The Baron wants you downstairs," the man growled, voice gruff and dangerous, his hands gripping the weapon tightly, ready to fire at a moment’s notice.“Baron? That’s strange,” Scott replied coolly. “I could’ve sworn I walked into a church... not a gang’s lair.”The man smirked, a mocking expression twisting his lips. “Seems you’re ye
The Judas Invitation
Mohammed raised his head slowly, and the moment Kelly caught sight of his face, her heart skipped a beat. A cold chill surged down her spine, paralyzing her where she stood. Her mind was instantly flooded with horrifying images—memories from the hospital, where she had seen this man butcher trained guards as if they were made of paper. The screams, the blood, the lifeless corpses on the floor—they all came rushing back like a tidal wave.She rose to her feet slowly, almost mechanically, as though her body were acting on instinct alone. Her heart pounded inside her chest like a war drum, and beads of sweat cascaded down her forehead, dripping onto her already trembling hands.Mohammed walked toward her with measured, deliberate steps, and his men fell in behind him like silent shadows, their faces stoic, unreadable, and their weapons barely concealed under flowing garments.He continued his slow, steady approach until he stopped a few paces away from her, towering over her with an air
The Church
Aunt Kelly walked down the grand staircase, her steps graceful and composed. She was dressed in a long black gown that flowed elegantly around her ankles, and a black hat sat atop her carefully styled hair. Her face was heavy with makeup—dark eyeliner accentuated her eyes, and her lips were painted a bold crimson. In her right hand, she carried a small designer handbag, its sleek black surface gleaming faintly under the hallway lights.She approached Scott and came to a halt just a few paces away from him.Scott gave her a subtle once-over, his gaze moving from her head to toe. His face remained unreadable, a calm mask betraying nothing.“Shall we?” Kelly asked, her voice soft and pleasant.“You’re ready. Let’s go,” Scott replied coolly. Then he turned to Sullivan, who was already rising from the couch. “Sullivan, gather the boys. We’re leaving immediately.”But just as Sullivan was about to exit the living room, Kelly quickly interjected.“Lorenzo, wait. I don’t think you should brin
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