Down the hallway. Sharp copper smell of blood. A messy kill, looks like the guy bled out all over the floor. A guard, one of the three that grabbed me. His throat ripped out. Teeth. Smell of jasmine and musk. Ava. There are more, further down. A lot more.
Two guards, killed clean. Right to the heart under the ribcage. The other with a severed spinal chord. Why would you have to kill three guards, if you were in on it?
A cold pit in my gut, as I start to question what’s happened. What if I took it wrong?
A massive bloody mess in the hallway ahead. Any idea of a clean surgical kill has gone out the window. I can feel the anger in you. The cuts are deep, deadly. But messy. You don’t care about being careful anymore.
Wait. This one’s not dead, but he won’t live for long. Bubbles of blood come up through his mouth and nose. He’ll die soon enough, a massive slit in his abdomen. He’s holding his intestines in. Not doing a good job of it either.
“Where is she, I wouldn’t lie to me”
“She just kept asking ‘Where’s Riddick?’, he”, points to a guy on the floor with his neck broken, “said that nobody knew, except McDermott. We tried to keep her out.”
“Was she in on this?”. He’s trying to get away, he doesn’t know what’s the right answer. “Don’t fucking lie to me”
“No. McDermott got the alarm, when they caught you, we all heard it, over the radio.”
So you didn’t betray me at all. And I hit you. Wanted to kill you. McDermott played me pretty easily, went right for a sore spot. I swore I would never hurt you again, and, before your old bruises had even faded, I’d hit you again.
The guard is dead. My hands move off his throat. I didn’t even realize I was killing him.
The door to McDermott’s office is open a crack. I slip inside.
I have killed more people than I can even remember. Seen more killings, and more bad ways to die, than probably anybody alive. None of that could prepare me for this.