Chapter 6

In the midst of Something

We all are ostentatious. We are taught that, don't we? We have a face for everything. A face for interview, a face for shopping another one for facing fake friends, one for the despising customers, a good one for the boss, a face to fuck and so many fucking faces. Right now, with these bullets fizzing through the window panes and chipping the ancient woodwork, I had my Brave face on.

So basically bullets rotate on the axis of their direction of motion. This helps them to attain the needed trajectory and not miss the target.

"Run." Travis cried.

The narrow galleries didn't allow much space for all of us.

"Save the boy." Mr Han said retrieving his golden desert eagles from his coat. His eyes dark with rage and teeth clenched.

The magnum, I pulled the hammer back, achieving the load.

The bullets had chipped the wooden wall. The red wallpaper was perforated, pieces of paper blowing in the air. It was like Wild West, WILD.

"I hope you don't hesitate killing people." Travis asked.

"No." I replied.

"Good." He smiled.

A shot reduced the beautifully carved daisy on the door into splinters, missing Travis by a centimetre.

"Are you afraid to die?" He asked.

"No." I said shaking my head.


We were hiding behind the thick wall under a window. Outside the building, a perimeter was being made. There was no way we could escape it. I was still not startled. Besides the fact that the beads of perspiration were protruding over my forehead and my heartbeat was audible to everyone around me, everything else was perfectly normal.

Matilda sat behind me, her breathe cooling my sweaty arm.

"This is going to be fun." She mumbled in my ears. "Are you tense?"

"Those bullets." I said. "That would be instant death, no pain, if it hits me in the head."

"You wanna know how I killed the ones who raped me?" She asked, her tongue twitching about her lips.

"It would be the last thing I'd like to hear at this moment." I peeked through the window, beyond the wall that parted us. There were men with walky-talkies, men with Kalashnikovs, men with carbines. There were men with balls. Behind that wall were two important looking middle aged men stuck with a bore and a bitch who had problems with being silent.

"I had them bounded on this tree that has a swarm of ants under its roots." She produced a cigarette.

"I don't wanna listen." I countered. Mr Han signalled Travis to sneak into the stairway and clear it so we could reach the basement.

"And then I made these little scratches on their dicks with a blade." She took a deep breathe, her nostrils looked rosy and distended. She had been doing cocaine all this time.

Travis was on the move, his heavy knees rasping against the beautiful maple wood floor. His heavy body extending slowly and steadily, trying to avoid any unintended noise.

"Then I smeared some honey over their pricked dicks." She paused for a moment. "Oh did I told you it was in a desert under scorching sun. Hot enough to fry an egg over the car's bonnet."

Travis was out there. Mr Han followed him, his twin eagles looked beautiful.

"You both stay here." He said as he closed doors behind him.

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