by Ammar Habib
The explosions’ insurmountable heat overwhelmed the cold air and for a brief instant, the pit felt like Hell. In a matter of moments, every single gangster was down. The ones who were not instantly killed in the detonations bellowed as the flames consumed their bodies. They could feel it eating their flesh and killing them.
But they were powerless to fight it.
Norris watched in horror. In an instant, his entire force was killed in one of the worst ways possible. Their screams filled every inch of the warehouse. And he knew that soon, those screams would be his own.
And just like that, the battle ended before it ever began.
The Guardian took a deep breath. Then another. He looked at the boys who were cowering only a few feet away, still hiding in the pit’s corner and just out of the explosions’ reach. Their faces were filled with awe and shock.
“Get out of here. Wave down the first cop you see,” The Guardian said.
After a long moment, they all slightly nodded.
The Guardian then turned away, searching the pit for the leader of the now defunct gang. Norris was nowhere to be seen. He thought he could escape and outrun his death.
But nobody can outrun their sins.
Chapter 19
Vixen
Dead. All his men were dead.
Norris darted through the warehouse’s dark hallway. Waterfalls of sweat covered his dirty face, hair, and clothes.
A piercing and sharp pain suddenly struck Norris’s ankle. He released a shrieking scream. Losing his footing, he stumbled a few steps before falling flat on his face. He yelled and bellowed in pain as he looked at his maimed ankle. It felt as if it was ablaze.
A small, razor sharp knife was lodged into his now-useless ankle and the bloody tip of the blade was prodding out of the other side. A stream of blood poured out of the wound.
A shadow suddenly stood above Norris. The wounded man’s shaking and horrified eyes slowly looked up at his captor. They started at the bottoms of his cape. Then moved to his covered torso. Then his chest. They stopped at his terrifying mask.
For a long time, no words were spoken. The captive shivered with fear as his breathing quickened. Even in his worst nightmares, a terror like this never befell him.
The Guardian coldly and wordlessly looked down at his prey.
“I—I—I wo—won’t be—beg. Y—you c—can’t make me beg.”
The Guardian stood silent.
“I w—won’t give you that sa—satisfaction.”
Through his mask, the cloaked killer just looked at his defiant victim. This victim thought he was different than all the others, but he was just like the rest. With a slight smile, The Guardian broke the silence. “You wouldn’t be the first to make that promise.”
Norris looked as The Guardian reached under his cloak and slowly pulled out his dagger, still stained with blood.
“But trust me…by the time I’m done with you, you’ll be begging.” He slowly leaned forward with the tip of his dagger pointed at Norris. “You will be begging for something as sweet as death.”
Norris knew there was no escape. The only question was: how painful did he want his end to be? “W—what do you want to know?”
“Danior.”
“D—Danior?”
“What’s his partner’s name? The red-headed woman?”
“It’s Vi—Vixen.”
“Where are they?”
“They’re at…”
Norris never finished the sentence.
His face suddenly showed the look of unbearable pain. His entire rib cage unnaturally caved in. Then, blood poured out of Norris’s mouth. His eyes rolled back as his body became limp and collapsed onto the ground.
The Guardian remained motionless. Still crouched down over Norris’s body, he stared blankly as his mind replayed what happened over and over again.
Norris was dead. He was butchered from the inside without a single mark visible on the outside of his body…just like William.
Then, he felt her gaze. The Guardian slowly turned his head.
At the end of the dark corridor stood a woman’s shadowy figure with long red hair. It was Vixen.
The Guardian turned to face her. She stood nearly fifty yards away, but he could see Vixen’s beautiful, fair skinned face, fiery red hair, and devilish smile. Then there were her eyes—red eyes—that slowly returned to their normal ivy color. Her hand was raised in the direction of The Guardian, balled into a fist.
The Guardian clenched his dagger tight, fury consuming his face. He charged at her with a mighty roar. His hood and cloak flew behind him as his boots loudly crashed against the hard floor. His vision tunneled on Vixen.
Just as he came at her, she turned and fled in the opposite direction. The Guardian ran with all of his strength, charging like an angry lion who wanted nothing more than to take down his prey. But even with his inhuman speed, he could not close the distance between them.
She turned the corner; The Guardian following only a few moments later. Vixen showed no signs of slowing down, keeping the distance between them.
The Guardian pulled out two throwing knives and launched them. They cut through the cold air, aimed to dig into her back. But when the blades came within a few feet of her, they abruptly stopped and dropped harmlessly to the floor, as if there were some invisible shield protecting her.
Still in hot pursuit, The Guardian reached back into belt as Vixen turned another corner. Ethan pulled out another throwing knife just as he followed her around the bend. As he did, he raised his hand to launch it.
But he never sent it. She was gone.
***
When Boris slowly came out of his sleep, the first thing he saw was his granddaughter. She was fast asleep and sitting on a chair right by his bed, her head resting by his torso.
The old man slowly came to his senses. Bright rays of sunlight spilled in through the window and showered their warmth on the two of them. Around the room were a few pieces of furniture. A small table was on the right side of the bed. On top of it was an assortment of papers and a couple of journals. A chest-of-drawers was on the opposite wall. A light brown bookshelf sat along a wall close to the closed bedroom door, opposite of the window. In a corner next to the window was a brown desk, its surface covered with picture frames and trinkets.
Around the room, a few portraits hung. The one that caught his attention was the family portrait of Katrina with her parents and grandparents. She was only two-year-old in that picture. Such a young and beautiful child. She was wearing a yellow frock with puffy shoulders. Boris remembered it taking the photographer almost half an hour to get her to look directly at the camera. If only they had known that a week after the picture was captured, her parents would be taken from this world.
His eyes slowly went over the room before stopping on his granddaughter. She looked so much like her mother.
For a long time, Boris simply looked at the person he would be leaving behind soon. Reaching over, he gently ran his hand against her hair.
Feeling his touch, her eyes slowly opened and looked upon his smiling face.
“Good morning, princess.”
“Hey.”
“Sorry to wake you.”
“It’s okay. I’m glad to see you awake.”
“I hope you weren’t here all night.”
“I want every minute I can be with you,” Katrina said, wiping the sleepiness from her eyes.
“You always did have your mother’s heart.”
She smiled. “But I have your head.”
Boris lightly chuckled. “What’s this, a smile? I had almost forgotten how pretty you are when you smile. I remember why I call you my princess now.”
Katrina smiled again. “Do you need anything, grandpa?”
“You worry too much about me, Katrina.”
“I don’t worry enough.”
“It would be impossible for you to worry any more than you do.”
“I could probably find a way.”
“I wouldn’t doubt that,” Boris replied with a smirk.
They both laughed for a short second before a long pause of silence.
Boris’ expression grew a bit more somber. “I’m so sorry, Katrina.”
“For what, grandpa?”
“That I’m going to be leaving you soon.”
Hearing those words suddenly dropped an unmovable weight onto her heart. The smile suddenly left her face. “No, grandpa. Don’t say—”
“My time has come, Katrina. Everyone I have ever known and loved has passed on and is waiting for me. I fear that this may be my last morning here with you—”
“I don’t want you to go. I don’t want you to leave me all alone.”
“Your grandma and parents are waiting for me. I’ve missed them for so long. I’ve been without them for so long. It is time for me to see them again. To be with them again.”
A tear began to roll down her cheek. Deep in her heart, she knew that he was speaking the truth. As much as she did not want to admit it, she knew that this morning would be one of his last.
Boris looked back at her. “Katrina…I won’t be leaving you alone. I am not abandoning you to the world. I know—I know that he will be back here soon. I know that your best days will be ahead of you. And…I know that we will see each other again someday.”
Katrina wiped her tear. “…How…how can you be so sure?”
“Because Katrina, I have faith…and hope.”
***
Vixen. How could she do what she did?
That was the only question on Ethan’s mind as he sat in the middle of the dark warehouse. Still in his uniform, his eyes were closed and his head hung low. All he could see was the image of Vixen.
Everything she did was completely unreal, completely impossible. Physically killing Norris without coming close to him. Moving with inhuman speed. Stopping knives within midair. Disappearing without a trace.
Then there was her smile. It caused chills to go down Ethan’s spine. Ethan had only ever seen that cruel of a smile on the man he killed two years ago: Anthony Griffin.
And her eyes—the way they flashed red was a mirror image of the beast that haunted his dreams. Her red eyes matched those of his creator…
Daken.
Chapter 20
Deception
It was late night when Ethan arrived back at the lobby of his building. He was not surprised to see who was waiting for him.
Adam rose to his feet when he saw his boss walk in.
Ethan greeted the receptionist, acting unaware of Adam’s presence, but Adam knew better. He made his way to Ethan as Ethan headed toward the elevator. Meeting halfway, Adam was the first to speak. “Late night, Mr. Daniels?”
“Is it your usual habit to drop by at your boss’ residence?”
“With what I needed to talk to you about, I thought I’d make an exception.”
“I was surprised that you didn’t follow me up to Jonathan’s office after we spoke this morning.”
“I wanted to make sure that I understood you.”
The elevator doors opened and the two of them walked in. “How long have you been here?”
“Since closing time at the office. Do you normally stay out this late?”
“Today was a short night. So what exactly is it that you want to talk about?”
“You already know the answer to that, Mr. Daniels.”
The doors of the elevator opened, revealing the entrance to Ethan’s penthouse. Coming into his home, Ethan stopped and turned to face Adam. “And you already know what my answer to your request will be.”
“I want to help you.”
“I don’t need help.”
“You didn’t tell me your secret for no reason.”
“I wanted you to know that everything you’ve done has not been unwatched. That I know about your past and what type of person you are. That’s why I gave you the job at the firm.”
“And what do you know about me?”
“That your parents were taken from you when you were a small child, killed by corrupt officers for not complying with their wishes. I know that up until recently, you’ve been living with your older brother, James. I know that he was against you partaking in the revolution and tried to stop you at every step, but you still persevered.
Adam’s expression showed his surprise at Ethan’s knowledge.
“I know that your pockets are empty. That even though you had nothing to gain and everything to lose, you still put your life on the line. And not just in marches. You’ve put your life on the line countless times for other people: the young lady at the convenience store; the young man on the basketball court…those aren’t the only times you’ve put yourself in harm’s way.”
“You really do keep tabs on everyone.”
“Only the important people.”
“But why did you tell me, of all people?”
“Because unlike most people, you don’t hesitate to put yourself in the line of fire for a complete stranger. You’re somebody I can trust if the time ever called for it.”
Adam did not know how to reply to that.
“You embody the type of person this country needs. The type of person I was hoping this movement would inspire. Somebody who can set an example for others.”
“If you really believe that, then let me help you.”
“No.”
“Why not.”
“I can’t.”
Adam was silent for several long moments. “…because of William?”
Ethan did not reply
“He died helping you, didn’t he?”
“…yes.”
“And you think that’s a good enough reason to not let anybody else help you? At least William died on his own terms; died fighting a good fight.”
“Is that what you want? To be butchered just like he was?”
“If that’s what it takes,” Adam responded without hesitation.
“Then you’re as stubborn as him.” Ethan gazed down at the ground for a few long moments, his mind and heart conflicted. “Go back home, Adam. Tomorrow I’ll contact you.”
Adam smiled, turning to leave, but Ethan’s words stopped him.
“And Adam,” Ethan spoke, reaching into his jacket pocket. “Next time you get into a street brawl be sure and take this.”
Adam watched as Ethan pulled out a black pistol before handing it to him. Adam took it into his hands.
“You know how to use it?” Ethan asked.
“My dad used to take me to the shooting range all the time when I was younger.”
“I’m sure he was a good man.”
“He was the best.”
“Do you still go?”
“Not as much as I used to.”
“If I was you, I’d go back to the gun range tomorrow and freshen up. Something tells me you’ll be needing it again soon.”
“Anything for The Guardian.”
“And when the time comes to pull the trigger, here’s some advice: don’t hesitate.”
Adam slightly nodded before leaving.
Within a matter of moments, Ethan was alone. He immediately wondered if he was making the right call. Adam possessed the heart to fight, but lacked formal training. At least William was an accomplished soldier. But it was better to keep Adam close to him.
Taking a deep breath, Ethan’s mind refocused back on Vixen—her devilish smile; her red eyes. And the more he thought about her, the more he cursed himself for letting her get away.
Walking down the corridor, he entered the living room where the television was turned on. A news anchor was announcing the day’s business news:
“…most analysts are perturbed at some of the financial decisions that Ethan Daniels’s firms have been making. Time will tell if they were the right decision. And in related news, industrialist Marcos Alberto made a statement today that he will be making a call to his main advisor to come to a decision over some new questions his company is facing…”
&nbs
p; Ethan slightly smiled at the coded message relayed in the newscast—Marcos had thought of a clever way to reach him. Ethan turned away from the television, ignoring the weariness that consumed his body and soul. With a deep breath, he headed out the room and back down the darkened corridor. It seemed that Marcos was facing another problem.
And Ethan was the one who would have to fix it.
***
The thick layer of clouds had thinned down by the time the moon and stars appeared. Marcos stood on the edge of the high rooftop with his hands clasped behind his back. He took a few deep breaths as he looked over the nighttime Crown City.
This city never slept. Almost every building in downtown was illuminated as people worked or enjoyed the night away.
Before The Guardian’s appearance, no sensible soul would be out this time of night. Back then, the night belonged to the criminals and the corrupt. Gangs and violent thugs owned the streets, unhindered by the police. But tonight, the streets were full of people and the roads were clogged with vehicles. Crowds consumed the sidewalks. People of every age, gender, and race went about their nightly business, their loud voices consuming the air.
Feeling a presence from behind, Marcos turned and came face-to-face with the man he was expecting to pay him a visit. His eyes widened when he saw his condition.
The figure’s cloak and hood were stained with a few splotches of blood. Even through the mask, it was obvious that he was exhausted and looked like he could collapse at any minute.
“You look like you’ve been through hell.”
The Guardian spoke in a cold voice. “I’ve been to hell, and what I went through today is not even close to it.”
“It used to be a lot easier to contact you when we had William.”
“A lot of things were easier when he was around. The media announcement was a nice idea.”
“Maybe if you told us who you were, it would be easier to contact you.”
“You know that won’t happen.”
“I guess not.” Marcos paused for a moment. “Have you found his killer yet?”
