"Hands up! Drop everything!" One of the guys in all black yells. He has a much bigger gun in his hand. A machine gun? I've seen Evan play with it in Fortnite before.
"Shove it into your bra!" He whisper yells and I do so without hesitating. I might've flashed him a bit of cleavage but I don't care, this is life matter right here.
"Drop everything! Hands up!" He says more louder.
"Round up boys!" He says, motioning for the rest of them to move around the crowd.
"Get down on your knees!" He yells again. His voice is so muffled that I can barely make out what he's saying. He looks like he's wearing those hats that cover almost your whole face. I mean it is cold outside...
"I'm paralyzed son!" And old lady, probably about 90, croaks out.
"I don't fucking care!" He screams, recklessly shooting at the bottom of the table she was sitting at, causing a bunch of the crowd to scream in shock, me included.
"Just relax." He whispers to me.
"What do you guys want?" Roland says, a little too confident.
"What can you give us?" He asks, nearing him and crouching down to become at his level.
"5k?" He says or asks maybe, I can't tell.
"That's it? I could get more from shooting you. Your life is more than that." He says, putting the gun to his head.
"10k?" He tries again.
"I don't need anything from you. Nothing from anyone here. Just someone..." He trails off, removing the gun from his head, causing Roland to release a huge breath. His eyes scan the room and stop at me. But then I realize it's not me, it's him.
"Aha! I found him boys!" They all turn towards him.
"Lookie lookie. It's you. Casually here, wearing a suit and bow tie." He says walking over here and tugging on his bow tie roughly, causing it to come undone.
"What do you want, Damien?" He says, spitting out the name of the man.
"You, of course. Your life. You've been a pain in the ass. Where the hell do you see a 19 year old gang leader? And what makes it worse is that you're better than me." He spits out, causing his saliva to go everywhere. Ew, gross.
Nose piercing boy gives me a look, but I can't tell what he's trying to say. The sick man notices his eyes traveling to me and turns towards me, causing my heartbeat to pick up.
"Who's this chick?" Ugh, what's with the 'chick' again.
"You're the playtoy for the night?" He asks, raising an eyebrow.
"No." He says, plainly, as the man walks closer to me, inches away.
"Girlfriend?" He asks, but he doesn't say a word.
"Your silence says everything." He says, and trails his dirty finger down the side of my face, causing him to tense up.
"Leave her alone. I'm what you want." He says loudly.
"You're not gonna turn yourself in. Not unless, it's about her." He says, continuing to move his finger down my neck and near my chest area.
"Stop. Let her go. She has nothing to do with this!" He says, but he doesn't stop and instead goes further down, nearing my boobs. I shiver under his touch and give him a pleading look.
He immediately, takes the gun out of his pocket and uses the bottom of the handle to knock him out, shoving it hard at the corner of his head. He falls to the wooden floor, with a loud thud, causing the guests to gasp in horror.
He quickly holds up the gun fiercely, just as the other three men do. Three against one? That's definitely not good. I decide to take my gun out, but he stops me by placing his hand against my chest and moving in front of me as if guarding me.
"Use it only if you need it." He whispers, before quickly pulling the trigger on one of the men behind him. The bullet pierces through his chest and he falls again with a loud thud. All of the guests in that area of the room run outside.
One of the other men start shooting at him, but he's quick to hide behind a table, that bursts with the impact of the bullets.
He shoves his handgun into his pocket, and grabs the bigger gun and starts firing, barely missing the guests. I'm not at all surprised at his good aim. After all, he is a gang leader.
He shoots another one of the men, and he lets out a pained screech, clutching on to his arm where the bullet hit.
He shoots again at his leg, and he continues to scream, causing the rest of the guests to run off in horror.
Left in the room is me, him, one other man and Roland. Even Meredith has left, running in her high heels. I stay rooted to the floor, not being able to move.
"Go!" He yells at me, but my legs stay put. I can't move. I can't leave him. Not like this.
But in seconds, I feel cold metal against the parting of my hair, and my arm is being tugged roughly, by the last man standing.
"Take another step and I won't hesitate to put a bullet through her head!" He screams. His words are muffled, due to his thick mask. I shake in fear. I'm at gun point.
It's like I'm the movies. Except it's not a thriller, it's a horror.
"I said, leave her alone. She has nothing, absolutely nothing to do with this!"
"Fight me, you sick bastard!" He continues to scream from his spot.
"Drop the gun!" The man screams. But he doesn't, instead he positions it in front of him.
"Drop it!" He screams again. But he doesn't. Just do it please. I figure these are my last moments and close my eyes, thinking of all the great things in my life, Netflix, Nutella, Avery, Reagan, Evan, Evelyn, mom, dad, food, and even him.
"Erin, are you okay?" He screams, getting me out of my thoughts. I nod quickly. No, hell no, I'm not.
At this point, Damien, decides to wake up.
Go back to sleep you disgusting as fuck bastard.
"Fucking asshole." I hear him hiss under his breath, even from the distance.
"Argh!" He groans in pain, touching the blood trickling from the side of his head.
The man doesn't hesitate to push the gun further into my head. I wince at the pain of it pressing into my head.
He looks around to see if anyone else is here, trying to backstab him, literally, and in that few seconds, I decide to fish the gun out of my bra. I fumble with it in my hands, before quickly pulling the trigger, pointing it at his chest. He falls immediately to the ground, but his eyes stay open.
My eyes widen at what I've done. What I've caused. A death.
Damien notices and screams "You little bitch!"
I killed him. I killed someone.
***
I killed him. I killed someone.
I immediately drop the gun and it falls at my feet, bouncing before falling again. My hands shoot up to cover my mouth and my eyes widen in shock. Did I really kill someone?
"You fucking bitch! You killed him!" Damien screams, patting around his pockets, before noticing his gun was gone. I spot it on the other side of the table, but he spots the gun I dropped. He quickly crawls to get near it, but I'm in too much shock to notice.
"Kick the gun away Erin!" He screams at me. But I stay still, staring as the man's chest that bubbles with blood, and pools around him. I feel a stream of tears fall from my eyes, but I don't remove my hands from my mouth, to wipe them away.
I can feel him near my feet, near the gun and I see a glimpse of him grabbing it and pointing it at me, before his head shoots back and falls on his back, the gun's handle caught loosely between his fingers.
I look up to see him, with shaking hands, clutching the gun. His stance is fixed, but his face holds zero emotion. I gasp and I'm afraid if my eyes widen even further, they may even fall out.
I hear an ear piercing scream, and I figure out it's from Roland.
"Elijah!"