𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞// 𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐊𝐀𝐔𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐙

Adrenaline

🎧please use the music provided above for a better experience🎧

November 15, 2010

I walked up to the man with two wine glasses in hand and took a seat next to him.

"Hello, handsome," I said, offering him a glass of wine with a warm smile. My goal was to gain entry into his house through charm and deception.

"Oh, hello, beautiful. And you are?" he asked, taking the glass from my hand.

"Anastasia Alekperov," I replied confidently, extending my hand for a handshake. "And you?"

"Hans Schulz," he answered, taking my hand and planting a kiss on the back of it. His touch felt unpleasant, but I had a mission to complete.

"You have such a beautiful name. Where are you from, darling?" he inquired, placing his hand on mine.

"I just recently moved here from Russia," I lied, concealing my true identity.

"You don't sound Russian," he remarked, raising an eyebrow.

"That's because I'm French. I lived in Russia for a while," I explained, subtly altering my accent to make the story more convincing.

"How interesting," he mused, taking a sip from the glass I had given him. "So, what brings you out here?"

"Some business," I replied, dismissively. My focus was on maintaining my cover.

"Ah, a businesswoman," he said, placing his hand on my knee.

"What about you, handsome? What brings you to a place like this?" I asked, giving him a playful smile.

"I was supposed to meet a few colleagues, but I'd much rather be here," he admitted, his hand moving up my leg.

His touch made me uncomfortable, but I maintained my composure. "Well, why don't you show me around some more?" I suggested.

The old man eagerly got up from his seat, and I reluctantly followed him, even though I was starting to worry that I might be set up.

---

We eventually arrived at an enormous house after a 40-minute drive. Throughout the ride, he had been bragging about owning numerous properties across Europe and his status as a billionaire. He was clearly full of himself.

Inside the house was breathtaking, with most of the exterior walls made of glass and adorned with hanging plants and greenery. It felt like a magical paradise.

He led me to a conversation pit and handed me a glass of whiskey. "Here you go, princess," he said.

"Thank you," I replied, taking a small sip, even though I wasn't particularly fond of whiskey.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked, placing his arm around me. I shifted uncomfortably, but he pulled me closer and continued talking about his business ventures in France.

Suddenly, my phone vibrated on my lap, and I discreetly picked it up to see a message from Tom: "Go to the bathroom."

"Excuse me," I said, smiling politely at Hans. "Could you show me to the bathroom, please?"

"Of course, follow me," he replied, leading me down a long hallway.

"Just in there," he pointed to a door at the end of the hallway.

As soon as I entered the bathroom, Tom called me. "Are you in the bathroom?" He says in a shush voice

"Yes," I whispered back, but before I could say anything else, he hung up. Just as I was wondering what was happening, I heard gunshots coming from the living room.

Panic set in as I backed into a corner of the bathroom, unable to believe what I was hearing. Then, someone began banging on the bathroom door.

"Open up, it's Bill," a frantic voice said.

I quickly unlocked the door, and Bill grabbed my wrist, pulling me through the hallway. I saw a trail of lifeless bodies of bodyguards surrounding a decapitated body... Hans body.

"Oh my god," I muttered, my voice trembling in shock.

Bill kept dragging me outside, and Tom's car screeched to a halt in front of us. Bill pushed both of us into the back seat and shut the door.

"What the hell was that?!" I exclaimed, trying to catch my breath.

"You just led us to the first man on our hit list," Gustav said nonchalantly, taking another drag from his cigarette.

"What is wrong with you guys?! You just killed all of them?!" I was horrified by their calmness after taking lives. My body shook, and the sound of gunfire replayed in my mind like a broken record. I had never seen a dead body before, let alone mutilated ones.

Suddenly, the back windshield shattered, and something whizzed past my ear.

"Nat, get down!" Tom yelled, and I quickly dropped to the car floor, covering my head.

"Holy shit, Tom, they're on us," Bill said, shooting at the car behind us.

"No fucking shit," Tom replied, his voice a mix of anger and annoyance.

"Fuck!" I heard Gustav yelp.

"Bill! Gustav got hit!" Tom swerved the car as he spoke.

"Nat, get up and help me pull him back here!" Bill ordered, and we managed to move Gustav into the back seat. Bill then climbed into the front.

"Guys, I think he needs a hospital," I said, concerned for Gustav's condition. He was trembling, and it was clear he needed urgent medical attention.

"No hospitals!" Tom and Bill both said simultaneously, their determination unwavering.

"WHAT?! HE NEEDS A HOSPITAL! HE'S GOING TO BLEED OUT!" I pleaded, but my words fell on deaf ears. They remained resolute.

Tom accelerated, reaching maximum speed on the speedometer. The countryside passed by us, and the sun had long set, leaving only the silhouette of trees and a dirt road ahead.

Finally, we arrived at a large house, where a group of medics awaited us with a stretcher. They rushed to the car, taking Gustav and disappearing into the house.