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Dimitri’s smirk is deadly, his voice dripping with menace. “Born ready. We grab the targets, and once they’re safe, we’re turning this shitshow into a bloodbath.”
Erik cracks his knuckles, a sound like gunshots in the tense air. “And when we find Aleks,” he murmurs, a wicked glint in his eyes, “I’ll personally ensure he begs for death before we’re done.”
We move deeper into the warehouse, blades glinting, guns at the ready. The halls are quiet, the silence shattered only by our footfalls and the occasional whimper from behind locked doors. We’ve already sliced the throats of a few of Aleks’s goons; their blood still clings to my knife, warm and slick.
The smell hits us first, a sickening combination of sweat, blood, and fear. It’s a stench I know all too well. We kick open door after door, each room a new horror.
Fuck.
This place is hell on Earth, filled with women and children from all over the world. They’re chained, beaten, used for pleasure. Their eyes are hollow, bodies scarred.
Dimitri’s face twists into a snarl, his eyes aflame with rage. “Fucking animals,” he spits, voice low and enraged.
The main door slams open, and Aleks’s goons come rushing in, guns blazing. They think they’ve got the upper hand. They’re wrong.
We move as one, a deadly dance of violence and bloodshed. Erik’s gun roars, taking down two in rapid succession. Dimitri’s blade is a flash of steel, slicing through flesh and bone, painting the walls red.
I feel alive, the rage inside me turning into a cold, focused fury. I plunge my knife into one goon’s throat, twist, and pull. He falls, choking on his own blood, and I move on to the next.
Bullets fly, screams echo, blood pools on the floor. This is hell, and we’re the demons coming to claim our due. One by one, Aleks’s men fall, their bodies broken and twisted, their eyes wide with terror as they realize they’re done for.
A goon rushes me, knife raised. I parry, slash, and his hand hits the floor, still clutching the blade. He howls in pain, but I don’t care. I kick him in the gut, and he falls, gasping. I finish him off with a bullet to the head.
Erik’s beside me, his face a mask of fury. “That’s the last of them,” he says, his voice rough. I nod, looking around at the carnage we’ve wrought.
Dimitri’s eyes are dark with anger as he surveys the room. “We’re not done here,” he growls.
“We need to get these people out. Get them out now,” I command onto my mouthpiece, my voice cold. “And D, make sure none of these bastards are left breathing.”
We move through the warehouse, methodical and ruthless. No one’s left alive. No one deserves to be.
The women behind the doors are crying, screaming, their voices colored with terror.
“D, you bring the men upstairs. Erik and I’ll handle the lower part,” I bark.
Dimitri nods, his face set in a grim line. “Got it.” He signals to some of our men; a quick flick of his hand, and they fall into line behind him, faces hard, guns ready.
They move quickly, finding a staircase that leads upwards, hidden in the shadows. The sounds of their footfalls echo through the empty halls.
I hear shouts in my mother tongue, rough voices filled with terror and pain. I don’t need to see what’s happening to know what it means.
The dying screams still echo in the air.
“Sounds like D’s having fun.” Erik grins.
“Music to my ears,” I snarl, the joy of the kill tingling in my blood. “Three less pieces of shit in the world.”
We shove forward, forcing our way deeper into this fucked-up den of misery. As we move, we’re throwing open more doors; behind them are women and children, faces etched with fear and exhaustion. We just gesture wildly for them to get the hell out, to run, and not look back.
Another door jerks open, and a half-naked shitstain stumbles out, his eyes a fucked-up swirl of confusion and dope, a needle hanging limply from his vein. Guy’s so far gone he’s practically in another dimension, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t a threat.
“Look at this fucking junkie,” Erik spits, disgust twisting his face.
“Pathetic,” I agree, my voice dripping with contempt. “End him.”
Erik’s blade flashes, and the fucker’s throat opens, blood spraying like a fountain. He collapses, gurgling, choking on his own life.
“Nice.” I nod, stepping over the body.
