Monday Delirium
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Chapter Twenty Seven
"How did you get in here!?"
The first man shouts as he sees Vile who grabs the gun and punches the guy so hard he feels something in the man's face cracking.
The man fires a shot, missing Vile and warning the other guards.
Everything is red.
Next thing Vile knows, he punched another guard in the gut used him like a meat shield from the third guard's bullets and rammed him through a window.
Shard of glass everywhere, Vile breaks the neck of the third guard using his boot
His blood is boiling and only due to a long and exhaustive practise does he picks the guns from the dying men.
One who's drowning in his own blood, the other suffocating from a broken larynx.
Vile was like a blood thirsty animal, he wanted to bite of chunks out of his victims he wanted to feel bones and muscle shattering and ripping but most of all Vile wants to survive. He had to practise some things, make them an habit, so he wouldn't forget himself in the heat of the moment.
Survival first. Slaughter second.
He's out in the corridor, more men show up, shooting at him.
One of the bullets hits to close to home, grazing bye.
Vile works his way around, there's crates everywhere so all Vile has to do is use them.
One of the guards gets cocky, tries to get close for a good shoot.
Vile promptly shoots him in the shoulder, the man screams and then gets a bullet in the face.
The other two waste their ammo away, some bullets ricochet.
They stop to load their weapons and Vile almost slides in time to shoot one of them dead.
The other screws up and drops the gun, Vile just points his at him.
He savours the moment.
He grins then wastes all his ammo on the guard.
All of it.
The man is dead in seconds but that doesn't matter.
Blood splatters everywhere, warm and bitter.
A pool of it soon shows beneath the body. a red mirror of sin.
The angle of the warehouse's light is just right.
Vile sees his reflection and he likes what he sees.
His prosthetics the horns implanted on both sides of his skull and the sharp, shark like teeth.
Vile can feel the adrenaline, his body almost shaking with excitement.
No alarms went off.
No one wants to attract the authorities attention, at least not to illegal weapons traffic.
Or just as likely, the agency does knows about the traffic but turns it's eyes away from it in exchange of a small fee.
Yes, that was more like it.
Vile decides to move on as he hears the noise of people running. More cannon fodder. Good.
He proceeds into hiding behind a container, the sort used for the transport of chemicals.
Guess they sell more than just guns, Vile thought to himself.
Two more guards, one of them older and fat.
Vile for a moment felt like the face was familiar.
The youngest of the two distanced himself from the fat one who was busy checking the bodies. He was sweating profusely his gun ready and his eyes darting left and right.
The young man tried to walk around some of the crates to Vile's left.
There was no time to spare.
Vile sprinted to the younger guard and as he turned around alerted to the sudden movement, Vile grabbed the man's hand with his right one, while holding the guard's hair with his left.
Then he sunk his teeth into the man's throat.
He screamed before making a suffocated noise, Vile's prosthetic teeth cut like knives and ripped of a chunk leaving a bloody hole from which all of the guard's life bled out seconds.
The fat one pointed his gun at Vile.
"What are you!??" He asked Vile, his voice full of rage and fear.
"Don't you recognise me, Forie?" Vile asked after spatting the human flesh before replying covered in blood, dripping it.
"My father used to trust you as his chief body guard.
Then the old man died and my sister decided to have you work shifts in this hole."
Then man swallowed dry, a look of comprehension running across his face.
"You won't get out of this alive, Piotr."
Vile tilted his had back in letting out a laugh that sounded more like a roar.
"Stupid, fat and old." Vile said as he dropped the body of the guard he was still holding. "My pet hacker sent the evacuation order and blocked all your security cameras and communication devices.
I baited you to come to me and you fell for it like the idiot you are."
Forie's hand started to shake.
"I WILL SHOOT YOU!"
Vile began walking slowly to the head of security, ignoring the threats.
"I killed all of them with barely a scrape to show on me.
They had numbers and fire power, you are just a sad old bug."
Forie started walking back and soon hit his back against a crate.
He shot then, his aim thrown off and his hand shaking all the while Vile getting closer.
"You'll run out of bullets like that!!" Vile shouted, mocking the man.
One of the bullet finally hit Vile and he stopped.
Forie's shot two more bullet which failed Vile and hit the ground instead.
For a moment no noise was heard but for Forie's ragged breathing.
Then Vile laughed again. A wild noise full of growls.
"You should aim for the head, MORON!"
Vile proceeded into a sprint, back slapped the gun out of the fat guard's hand and then punched him in the gut.
"Listen up." Vile whispered in the man's ear.
"You want to live?"
The fat guard nodded a yes, then got punched again in the stomach.
"Then run. Run fatty, go get my sister. Tell her I want to meet her here on my own terms."
He pushed the man away, as if in disgust and then kicked him in the a**.
"Tell her it's life or death!
RUN! RUN BEFORE I EAT YOUR EYES!"
Forie soon disappeared, running as fast as his stunted legs allowed.