UNDENIABLY DESTINED

CHAPTER 7

Leaping over the crude obstacle, Aadaya raised her weapon at the two figures. One lay still, already surrendered to the abyss, while the other, gravely wounded and writhing in torment, clawed feebly toward the sanctuary of the door. His life essence poured forth like a crimson river, mingling with the unrelenting rain, a twisted baptism of death. Aadaya aimed her weapon at the suffering man and pulled the trigger, delivering him from his torment. These guards were not her true adversaries; they were pawns in a malevolent game. Aadaya's gaze bore into the dead man's unseeing eyes, her emotions buried beneath layers of ice, her body soaked to the marrow, shivering yet driven by a relentless surge of adrenaline.

Abruptly, a tortured cry rents the air, jolting her from her morbid reverie. She looked up to find a figure standing on the stairway to the roof, eyes widened in grotesque fascination. He surveyed the carnage, locked eyes with Aadaya, and made a desperate dash upstairs.

Aadaya gave chase, her only goal was to prevent the imminent alarm that could spell disaster. She entered the watchtower through the door, greeted by the eerie ambience of weathered wooden panels and the echo of impending doom. Her specialized glasses pierced the gloom, guiding her relentless pursuit.

Room after room she traversed, until at last she spotted a staircase ascending into the abyss. Urgently, she relayed through her earpiece, "Saddie, the rooftop of Tower 3, a fugitive is headed there!" Her words came out hurried, imbued with the urgency of impending doom. She pressed on, a force of nature, casting aside any obstacle that dared impede her progress.

At long last, she reached her destination: the rooftop. The deafening roar of a gunshot split the night. Aadaya, ever vigilant, summoned her powers, intercepting the deadly projectile mid-flight. It crashed to the metal floor with a chilling clang. The would-be assailant, concealed behind a shadowy pillar, watched in horror as his sinister designs unraveled, and shattered like a fragile dream.

Aadaya wasted no time; she squeezed the trigger of her gun as the fugitive sought refuge behind the pillar again. Saddie's voice, laced with ruthless intent, whispered in her earpiece, "Wait, bring the guy toward the window." Aadaya answered with cold silence as another round erupted from her weapon, a deadly streak amidst the muffled rain and the haunting echoes of violence. The lights inside the watchtower cast a sinister red hue as if the very walls bled with malevolence.

Retreating behind a pillar, Aadaya's gloved hands moved with mechanical precision as she reloaded, all while her eyes bore into the lifeless forms scattered across the rooftop. These unfortunate souls were just collateral damage, their existence nothing more than a fleeting inconvenience. The rain-soaked bodies bore silent witness to the cruel dance of fate, their souls swallowed by the abyss.

Unwavering and without remorse, she ignored the lifeless corpses and veered down a narrow hallway, her steps purposeful, her heart a relentless metronome of doom. The fugitive, misled by his prey's cunning, continued to fire blindly upon the empty pillar, unaware of the deadly chess match that unfolded.

Aadaya knew her time was running out, that the fugitive would soon unravel her strategy. With measured steps, she rounded the corner, closing in on the front section of the rooftop where her prey lay in ambush. The doorway beckoned, a portal to vengeance and retribution.

She reached the threshold, her finger on the trigger, ready to confront the fugitive. The scene unfolded before her eyes like a grotesque tableau: the fugitive, desperate and reckless, attaching himself to a zipline. The night trembled with anticipation as a gunshot tore through the damp air, but the bullet missed its mark, an echo of failure. The fugitive cast himself into the abyss, disappearing into the mist, a spectre of uncertainty.