Turbinio

Tobacco and Coffee

The last sentence made your stomach turn and a fury took over your body. You weren't an expert on what you were going to do, but you were agile as the devil. When you opened the door, one knee was still on the floor. The two men restrained Lucy Steel as she screamed; one of them held a needle, the other her arms.

It was clear that the fight wouldn't last much longer.

Despite your preference to slit the throat of the man holding the needle, his companion had his back to you, much to his misfortune. You approached, not caring about bumping into the glass shards on the floor, as Lucy's screams could drown out any other noise, and in one leap you pulled the man up by his hair.

Frightened, he struggled, but didn't want to let go of Lucy. Until he was no longer confused, it was too late. The hair pull left his throat perfectly exposed and you cut it without much effort, imagining that tactical knives were made specifically for this.

A curtain of blood gushed over Lucy and the man holding her was nothing more than a limp corpse, allowing her to break free and crawl away from the man with the needle.

To your good fortune and miracle, the blood had gushed into the other man's face, temporarily blinding him and limiting him to the disgusted grimaces you expect when you have someone else's blood in your mouth.

Without wasting any time, you stabbed him. The first few stabs were easy, although it took a few shallow cuts to pierce the skin. Ironically, that knife wasn't made for stabbing. The skin on a man's belly is as tough as buffalo leather, you thought. On the next attempt, you tried a direct blow from above and hit what looked like a bone, probably some part of the hip.

For a moment, you thought your arm had fallen to the ground. The shock of the impact reverberated throughout your shoulder and the knife fell from your numb, blood-slick fingers. Everything below the elbow went numb, but a terrible tingling warned you that it wouldn't be for long.

"Goddamn bastard...'' You grunted between your teeth, breathing hard. ''Goddamn poison.''

Although the knife fell, you didn't have to worry, that man was dead and as immovable as a sack of wheat. You needed a few seconds to regain your sanity even with Lucy's incessant crying behind you.

When you turned around, you managed to pull yourself together. Lucy looked at you as if she saw a blood demon, a thin layer of sweat and tears all over her skin. Her eyes were cerulean, bright and pained, her mouth open like a fish out of water, trying to come back to reality. But none of that mattered because all you could do was stare at her belly, swollen and heavy as burdens. Pregnant and pale, with the weight she was carrying on her body.

''(Y/N)! Oh, is that you?!'' That's all she managed to say.

''I think so.''

''You... what? Why?''

"Don't ask me, I don't know either.''

You approached and crouched down in front of the girl, who seemed on the verge of fainting. You put your hand on her belly, trying to feel some life there. You still couldn't understand how the hell she had gotten into that state. Any possibility other than a child was plausible to you.

"Jesus Christ, Lucy... What did that son of a bitch do to you?''

Using her little strength, she grabbed your arm, leaning a considerable part of her weight on it, and then you looked at her.

"It doesn't matter... ah! Stephen!'' She sobbed. ''Is he hurt?! Please, (Y/N), save my husband!''

Recovering from the shock, you held her by the arms, helping her up to sit on the stretcher again. Without realizing it, all that effort took a considerable amount of time and your strength, which was already gradually being taken over by the poison in your blood. You stumbled on your way with a dry heaving but managed to control yourself and leave Lucy sitting up, who collapsed almost unconscious the instant you touched her.