PRINCEZA

PRINCEZA CHAPTER SIX --

"Anything else, Sir?"

"No, that shall be it. Thank you."

Jonathan's butt was the centre of attraction as he bent over to pick up a radish by its leaves and plonk it back onto the cart.

Oh God his back hurt like hell. He had to start working out again. Making out with the vacuum cleaner wasn't doing any good!

He paused a second to look at his arms now, once raw and shredded, it still bore marks of years of rigorous practice, the muscles hardened to the core when he was back in Italy. Working for the Ferrigiatos was some dead meat. But yeah, he had to retire, one can't keep on staying a mafia bodyguard for life, there's gotta be a worthy end or it ends in the grave with God over a glass of scotch. And boy, oh boy, he had a huge life ahead of him. He wouldn't risk his life for nothing.

And as his eyes wandered across the table, pushing the trolleys towards the exit, his eyes fell on a marshmallow tin. Ivan loves marshmallows. Oh yes, that night he did meet Ivan too, for the very first time, a friendship he would cherish forever.

Was he worried about Ivan? Yes.

Was the doctor someone he could trust with his best friend? Seemed so.

He wasn't sure about that but he had heard that the facility had some pretty good ones.

As he smiled over the empty trolleys now that he had loaded the goods onto his truck, he beamed at the idea of Iris when she would see him with actual food. Not the shit they served. Petra had repeatedly warned him not to go out shopping alone but man, Jonathan always believed he is big Joe, no one, bloody no one could ever spank him, and he knew all the moves.

Suddenly somewhere the sound of cracking glass came into his ears, more like glass screaming in pain, as he turned to see what was all this about, he saw a blade blasting through the glass walls of the shopping complex, and what was more dreadful; that it was coming STRAIGHT AT HIM.

He had only some seconds to jump right across the floor onto the meat section before he saw the blade swivel and hit the board behind where he was standing seconds ago.

Bloody hell! It was an Obsidian; the sharpest in the world not letting you even breathe before it cuts you and your throat off.

As it stuck against the board like a butcher's knife, Jonathan regained his senses. Something's finally happening, life's all blood and dirty intestines as they said in old Italy, he was tasting something after a lot of time now and hell yeah, he was prepared.

He looked into the distance, six men wearing blackish capes and masks had entered the centre with fellow Obsidians.

"Worthy treat ain't it, after a long long diet." His mind shouted out.

He got up in a flash, turned his way past the running afraid customers whose whole evening was about arguing with their spouses about their sick lives and bargaining unrealistically with the store staff who were actually tired with their sick lives. Never in their worst nightmares had they imagined an Obsidian being flung across their shocked faces and thin and precious necks.

In a flash the store was empty, Jonathan waited near the coffee mug shelf, as the six men scampered around looking for him.

Hell of a ride now, let's begin?

One of the guys appeared into his vicinity, and soon close enough to the spot where he was hiding, Jonathan's brain reacted too quickly to get caught.

His foot went straight between the man's legs and he was flat on the ground, Jonathan brought down a coffee mug on his head, and soon he was unconscious, the back of his scalp smothered into a bloody mess and the Obsidian was his now.

It's been a long time since he wielded one of these babies, it would be fun walking down the old road once again.

As the Obsidian flashed in his hands, he felt renewed vigour, soon he was up and on the lookout for the rest, when suddenly a slim figure came up behind him, bloodshot eyes, and trained to kill.

Jonathan blocked his blow with his blade and turned to go for the stomach and in a quick turn, hit his knees with his foot and as he squirmed, he lost the blade, and Jonathan was ready; his hands twisted the neck.

Another down, four more to go.

As he picked himself up, he saw two of the others running at him, they angry and skilled enough to kill entire armies at once, and swung their blades at him.

Jonathan could feel his veins popping out of his skin, too much pressure! Holding them off with his blade and his left fist, he seared in pain, the Obsidian was cutting through his skin in an easy fashion. Rage boiled down to the last minute and as they were pressing him down, he kicked one in the gut and threw aside the other, the kick made the assassin land a few sauce sections away which bought Jonathan enough time to deal the one here.

One blow on his face made blood stream out and Jonathan banged his head against the wall several times, as he left the skull cracked and brain in a greyish mess, his eyes still burning from his pain, he ran over to the other man and plunged a pressure cooker into the man's heart.

Jonathan was breathing fast, he hadn't had this much of physical exertion for a long time. His panting breath was taken over by sudden pain in cervix as if his backbone was being taken apart.

There were the last two assassins there, and a blade sticking out from his back. Jonathan was sure to die now, but he was happy he died fighting, when suddenly he saw the two taking their masks off, two blond familiar white mustached guys, the ones he had left back in Italy.

"Ciao vecchio amico, non ti vediamo da molto tempo."
The one of the left said with a jeer, his handsome face sporting a nasty souvenir from two years ago.

"Hello to you too, Pietro and Alessio, I didn't hope we would meet."

The Ferrigiato twins had once again brought a sharp disgust to his face smeared with blood.

END : CHAPTER SIX