Reputation: Book One

Tripp

I nervously pace back and forth across the backyard as I chewed my thumbnail, continually glancing up at the illuminated window which revealed many still shadows. I would take a deep breath every time one moved and freeze, hoping I wouldn't be spotted. My anxiety was through the roof right now, but there was no way I was going to let my team see. Although I wasn't the leader, they looked up to me for everything. And showing them my weakness might influence the way they see me.

The backdoor opens and I drop to my stomach, trying to lay as flat as I could. The air in my lungs leaves me in a rush and I hold my breath, watching two people, a man and a woman, creep out onto the porch.

"Where they at?" The man growls, pointing his automatic out to the wood line where I was laid. The red target laser on his barrel swept over my head, and I cuss under my breath. If I even flinched, I would die.

"Go through the gate," The girl orders, gesturing to her left. They both break off in a sprint, kicking open the fence. I reach up, pressing my earpiece to switch to the group.

"They're coming upfront," I whisper, jumping to my feet and sprinting to the door. "Autumn, copy?"

I burst in, end of my pistol leading the way as I barrel through the library and slide past the dining area, darting up the back stairs. The very first thing I notice is a large, smashed-in hole in the wall, and blood smeared along the top banister. I lean down, squinting hard at the streaks, and I soon realize they were finger-marked; somebody had put up a fight. Thinking back to what Qrow said, I had a horrible thought I was forced to push away as I made my way further. He, along with Autumn and the crew, could be anywhere in this 5600 square foot house.

Just as I was stepping onto the landing, a hand grabbed my ankle from behind and yanked, sending my body crashing onto the steps, my injured side catching my fall. I grunt, rolling onto my back to view my attacker. His dark skin glistened with sweat and his eyes were sharp with determination. He immediately tried to lurch forward between my parted legs, hands outstretched as he reached for my throat. I seize both his wrists and hold them away, but he weighed way more than me. Closer and closer his long, bony fingers got to my skin, and my arms were shaking with strain. I hear commotion above my head and a high-pitched, primal shriek as there was a thud, shaking the photos lining the stairway wall. I knew exactly who that shriek belonged to, and it tore me to pieces. Talitha had to get out of here alive before anyone else.

I clamp my thighs around my attacker's head, twisting my waist and forcing his head through the banister pillars. He began to fall the height of the steps but before I could get away, he grabbed my leg again, bringing me down with him. He topples onto the TV and it crashes to the floor just as I land right on my back, the force knocking the wind out of me. Glass spewed out from the TV screen and sprinkled itself along my arm and littering the floor. I tried to move, but I get an excruciatingly painful feeling in my side- the side I had stitched back together from the accident. Glass screeched against the wax wood floor as I stood back up, gripping my side as I limped back to my pistol that'd fallen out of my grasp on the way down. My hands were cut and bloody, little spears and shards of glass penetrating my skin. My attacker manages to his feet, his forehead split open and dripping blood down his face and into his right eye.

"Leaving?" He asks in a low, gruff voice, giving me a menacing, toothless smile. I pick up my gun again, point it right at him and pull with no hesitation. He opens his mouth to speak, eyes wide with fear as his hands find his stomach, his body dropping to his knees. He examines his bloody hands, looks up at me, and then falls over, the body still.

I stare down at him for a beat too long, regret raking its claws down my spine. I shake my head in disappointment, turning on my heel and working my way up the stairs. All the lights were on and there were blood splotches along with the white hallway rug, every door wide open. I hear glass shattering and pounding of feet around downstairs, the sound of drawers and cupboards slamming and cries of effort from Autumn. I spin around, my chest heaving. I wanted to go down there and help, but I needed to find the girls. Autumn could handle it.

Taking a deep breath I move forward, my gun leading the way, peering into every room before jumping forward. I step into the bathroom, examining the mess. The medicine cabinet was picked through, some pills dumped and floating in the toilet and some scattered across the floor. By the shape and colour, I recognized them almost immediately.

Autumn's oxycontin for her migraines.

I furrow my brows in disbelief, tucking my pistol into the waistband of my pants. I bent over to examine them closely, dipping my hand into the water to fish them out. Suddenly, a large hand thrust the back of my head into the bowl, my nose bashing into the seat. Their fingers twist in my hair and pull me back up, shoving me aside and socking me right in the left jaw. I see their black-suited body and struggle to my feet only to be kicked back into the bathtub.

I grasp desperately at the shower curtain, but it breaks off the screws in the wall, coming down on the Myo. I feel the wall tiles crack under my head as I slip, a groan bubbling past my lips. I rear back and kick at their legs, trying to get them on the ground to give me time to fight back. My nose was dripping blood and I felt lightheaded, my chest heaving from effort. My whole body was trembling, and I wondered if Qrow was handled the way I am now. If so, I didn't expect him to do very well after tonight.

Digging for my pistol I push out of the small tub and lurch for the Myo, the both of us crashing to the floor. There was shouting outside the bathroom and flashes of light threaded between shots ripping through the walls and hallway, and by the size of my attacker's body, I could fairly assume it was a large male, probably bigger than me. Finally, he wrestled the curtain off, and I took my chance. Jabbing the barrel to his throat, I pressed his shoulders to the ground with my knees.

"Where are the girls?" I snarl, raising my lip. He slowly works his jaw around and spits in my face, a low growl reverberating in this throat. My breath hitches in my nose and my eyes snap shut, my teeth locking onto my lip stud. I could shoot him now.

I clobber him right in his forehead with my magazine and cock my gun, pressing it to his hairline. "I'm not going to ask again," I whisper, lowering my face to his.

“She'll kill the both of them before you can make it to her room,” He coughs, his voice rough like sandpaper. I stare at him with utter hate, shaking my head at him.

"Don't look at me like that," He slurs, and his voice only infuriates me more. A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips and frustrated tears build on the rims of my eyes. "If anybody is a disappointment, it's-"

With the twitch of my index finger the hammer clicks, leaving his mouth stuck in the shape of the word and my ears ringing from the close fire. Blood pours from his nose and his mouth, and something inside my chest drops. And I realize, just like that, he's dead.