Carlton ✔

37| The Raving Monster

Picking up the metal rod, I ran out of the door, expecting to see stairs leading down but there weren't any.

The door behind me banged open, footsteps halting a few feet away from me.

Five.

Five men, I counted, as I turned around.

I noticed, all their guns had been tucked and they circled me, seemingly enjoying this. Especially the middle guy whose pistol visibly stuck out from the right side of his belt. It would take them atleast a little while to pull the guns out. "Carlton Hargrave," the middle guy huffed, "Surrender and we won't hurt you!"

Like hell.

They thought I'd be here in a half bloody shirt, with literally a dented metal rod in my hand and gun in another, looking like I had killed a man or two and just...surrender?

Very well.

I lifted my hands up, a smile tugging my lips.

They bought it. Now what kind of a man surrenders with his weapons still in his hands?

It took them off guard when I suddenly sprinted towards the man in the middle. But my eyes were on the man on the extreme left. I gathered momentum on the metal rod and flung it at it, with all the vigour. It struck him square across the face.

A gunshot resonated in the air as I shot the man right beside him, somewhere around his neck.

They were all trying their best not to shoot me, because maybe someone ordered them not to and that gave me an advantage. I dropped on the floor, sliding from between them. Getting back up, I slammed my shoulder on the middle guy's back so he fell face first.

Another man gripped my gun as if to pry it away from me, but shockingly for him, I went closer to him, slamming my gun in his chest and shooting him.

My head had started to bang as if someone was repeatedly hitting it from inside. My vision blurred for a few seconds, and the fifth man, still standing, kicked the gun out of my hands. Clattering, I watched it skate across the hall, far away from me.

He lifted his arm and I glared as he threw a hefty punch across my face. I collided with the floor, beside the middle guy I had shoulder-slammed earlier, coughing blood and breathing restlessly to prevent the spasms from closing my throat up.

A miserable groan left my throat as he kicked me in my stomach, right where the bullet graze wound was. My whole body shriveled up, sweltering tears stinging the sides of my eyes.

What was I going to do?

I inhaled sharply as I remembered something.

Swinging my arm backward, I reached for the man behind me, removing the gun tucked in his belt and shooting the one who had punched me.

I had no time to confirm if I had shot him right, my vision was blurred with my tears, my own breaths mingled with blood, threatening to clog my windpipe.

And as if things weren't already bad, the guy behind me wrapped his arm around my neck. He was so quick, so agile, that he was already choking me. He pulled me on top of him so I lay backward on his chest, choking the life out of me from behind.

My heart came upto my throat, my head spinning suddenly at the feeling of not being able to breathe anymore. I punched him arms, tried to push them away, reached for his face, elbowed him chest. Nothing was working.

He was trying to make me pass out. And if I did, I didn't know where the hell they'd take me and what they would do to me there. It was worse than dying. I clawed my fingers at his hands uselessly and used my last breath to scream for help. But no one would hear me.