My Tragic Mafia Life | ✔️

15

A moment more and there were gunshots, gunshots. Loud and bulky and ringing, running around the hallways of her school. But they weren't from intruders, no these criminals who caused havoc were by no means burglars.

But students.

Josephine scurried around the classrooms, her footsteps drowned out by the chaos ensued by Camillo and Dante and their goons.

Josephine had never felt like this. She had felt so disgusted and shocked and disturbed and afraid. Her joints shrunk from thought, her tongue dried up from screams, and her eyes shut from what she had seen. Like a dark angel falling from the heavens, Josephine clammered with each instant of air and fell far, far down the classrooms and labs to the exit below. Above was the problem, tucked behind the courtyard's ear where it still played the melody of gore and riots.

Below it was safe. Below was still Hell. Josephine couldn't tell the difference.

She was at the exit, breathless and at unease. She wanted to leave, knowing that she shouldn't be here. Shouldn't have been there. Shouldn't have watched, shouldn't have filmed.

But there was greed clawing at her heart. Her phone. Left behind. It swayed her, damned her. But between the value of leaving it all behind, she paused thoughtfully. She chewed the inside of her cheeks. She didn't have much time to choose. It was now or never.

Josephine ran back into the school.

Just get the phone and leave. Was the mantra Josephine muttered over and over again in her head. In and out. Get it and gone. It wasn't hard to return, all Josephine had to do was follow that sickening melody of chaos that ripped her ears apart with it's throaty claws.

Each step took her closer. Josephine burned, feeling aghast, and squeezed her hand so tight she felt the pulsations of her angry heart throwing tantrums throughout the veins of her arm.

The courtyard wasn't empty, but their position had moved north. Josephine saw her phone right underneath the shadow of the stone balcony to where neither side had noticed it. She swore.

They were a few feet away from it.

The grass had become a blood-filled pit. Seeing their fighting, each body in rage and anger and yet each blow and gunshot with a fine line of control... There were no words to describe the pure horror that Josephine felt.

If she was caught she wouldn't see the light of day ever again. Not as those students started tearing each other for their throats. For their eyes. For bone. For blood.

She crouched low, tip-toeing around corners. Becoming a mistress of shadows, avoiding the moonlight as if it could burn her, she lurkered between the veils of shade as it drowned her skin completely. Like a wisp of darkness in the night. She could barely hear them anymore, the piercing bullets had silenced her ears, and hopefully, her steps. She prowled on.

Like prey observing their predators before the hunt, Josephine side-glanced at them. Beatriz had been yelling while the twin boy, Luca, and the green-haired girl had begun swinging knives. A moment more and the tan-skinned boy tore him away. Josephine grimaced, there was blood and screams and undeviating hatred that drove each character giving way to the wails that ripped out and the skin that was severed.

Throughout the brink of chaos, there was only one who did not shy away from Camillo's deafening gaze. Dante. Dante had selected him as an opponent, and had thrown his gun away to the pooling blood beneath him.

Josephine tried to ignore them. She was ten steps away. Nine.

Camillo ditched the gun in his hand just like Dante had done. Camillo's smile turned vicious—vicious, and cruel. His friends, more like soldiers now that Josephine had been watching, stood beside him in clean, straight lines.

Dante's own entourage had done the same.

Five more steps. Josephine skittled onward.

Both sides launched into a run. All gunshots gone. Even Josephine had to pause to watch as each side cut away at each other, the crack of bone riddling in her heart and the metallic smell of blood whaling throughout her nose.

She took the chance to grab her phone. She checked the screen, no cracks. Everything was fine and orderly.

From within the chaos, as if God just couldn't have Josephine have her little win, a deranged snarl ripped from the fact of thrashing students.

"And who the hell are you?" The voice said to her.

Josephine blanched, darting to the face that had seen her. Valentina. But different from before, now they all saw her. Every last one. Then they saw the object in her hands, her phone. They stopped fighting.

Josephine hurtled into a sprint.

Blood stained her shoes as it splattered through the slick. In between pounding heartbeats, all Josephine could hear from behind were rapid footsteps that slapped into puddles of blood clawing towards her. Josephine didn't know from who, which side it came from, and she didn't want to find out.

If they caught her, her blood would join theirs.

They were all on her. But Josephine was head cheerleader. She knew she could run, but they didn't. She was making strides, fast ones, opening the gap between them with each gleam of muscle that tore as she scrambled for the exit.

Josephine's head was filled with warmth. The warmth of adrenaline. Her face glimmered. She would get out, get out and go—

The deafening sound of a bullet gazed over Josephine's left leg. She howled at the sharp sensation, the pain like prick of a thousand needles throbbing in her skin.

The sound guns loaded behind her, and Josephine staggered in shock.

They were going to shoot her. All of them.

Yikes. Action scenes are not my favorite.

But it's here!

Do you think Josephine will get caught? What do you think of all the characters relationships? Who would win in a fight between Dante and Camillo?

More chapters to come.

-Mel

Vote. Comment. Enjoy.