The life of the Phoenix Queen; The Reincarnation Of the Mother of All

Chapter 9: The Duchess of Death

4 days before New Year's there was a plethora of customers trying buy food for their New Year's Day parties. Even though they were poor they still liked to celebrate New Year's, at least that's what Grandpa Peter said. Everything was running smoothly like it usually did, until 4 men came into the store with 2 black Glock 49's in each hand. At first, I thought they were looking for us and that they were with Alejandro, but they quickly yelled at Grandpa Peter, whom was behind the register. They wanted the money from Grandpa. Instead of getting worried and scared but we all stayed calm. Jay and Erwin protected the civilians, putting blind folds on the children and adults, while I watched from the bottom stair of the staircase 6 feet away from Grandpa as the man was holding a gun to Peter's head. I thought that I could have a nice life after all the crap I've already been through but then again monsters always have to go through pain. I stood up and looked at Peter before taking 2 quiet steps closer to him. Still about 5 ½ feet away from the two men, I mind linked my brothers.

Mind Linking:

Mya: "Take the people out the back door, next to the freezer. One of you stay with them and keep them calm, the other come back in and help me get these bastards out."

Jay & Erwin: "Got it!"

End of Mind Linking

I could hear quiet footsteps as I had trained myself to pick up on the quietest sounds. The door was unlatched and men, woman and children had quietly been led outside. Surprisingly, the armed me didn't notice the missing people. There were 3 fully armed men by the door and the other still had his gun to Peters head. Peter hadn't flinched even when the man had pulled the safety off and cocked the gun right in front of his forehead. I guess that's what happens when you're in the mafia, you grow a pair of steal balls and you're not scared of shit. Or maybe the mafia men and women were scarier than these thieves.

Peter kept his eyes locked into the other, much taller man's eyes. The short old man didn't move, but only to press the button to open the register. I wasn't going to let the old man's money get taken. He worked hard for it, the 4 of us had worked hard together. With that though, I took 5 more steps forward. I had my pocket knife that Grandpa Peter had given to me, strapped to my thigh, over my black leggings. I fiddled with the hem of my black tee-shirt as I tried to figure out how I would attack the man with the gun. "Don't move Peter", I mind linked the 5'4 old man. He had been mind linked before but he was still visibly concerned about what I had just said to him. He probably knew I was gonna kill the 4 men. I had walked far enough up from the stairs to see that Jay was coming around the corner of one of the shelfs of food, nearing the 3 men by the doors. He got within 2-feet of them still without being noticed. I kept my eyes on my brother as I walked into view of the tall man holding the gun now to my head instead of Peter's.

?: "Back the fuck away, kid! I'll kill you so give me the money and we'll leave." He was clearly panicked; I could see that even through the black mask he wore. His eyes were visible through the dark sunglasses that adorned his pale face making it more obvious that he was desperate for the money.

Mya: "How about no? No, gun scares me, so yours sure as hell won't. So, what a black piece of crappy build metal, that's gonna hurt me. If that can hurt me then shoot me?" He paused becoming even more confused than before.

Mya: "Go ahead. Shoot me. Then I'll just kill you anyway, so if it makes you feel better to die knowing that you at least got a shot in before you died, then go right ahead." I smirked, with slyness in my eyes and I leaned over the counter, arms crossed, closing the cash register that had more than $200.00 in it. I wasn't going to let him get the money we needed to live. I wasn't going to live on the streets again. Selfish I know but still, Peter would be with us and he can survive without his medications and a good bed. Peter was going to die at home in bed not on the streets in a wooden wheel barrel.