CHAPTER 1
It was supposed to be a nice relaxing day off. A bit of shopping and lunch with friends. Only a wreck and redirected traffic led to the most round about way home.
Even that would have only been a bit frustrating if I hadn't heard the scream. A young girl, older teen in faded and dirty clothes, was dragged back into a warehouse.
As the Neanderthal in scrubs tosses me into another wall I almost wish I had joined Juliette and Amanda at the bar, or at least waited for back-up.
My gun slides away so I grab up a long machete and swing.
His head flys away, the 6ft body falling hard quickly replaced with another. This one nearly rips my arm off.
A punch to the jaw sends me hard to my knees.
My ears ringing.
My face throbbing.
He lifts me up, slamming me into the wall. A punch in my back, to the right of my spine.
He steps back smirking.
My body trembles but I don't fall.
My eyes meet frightened brown of the girl where she lays strapped down on a steel gurney.
How can I see her over his head? Why does she look so horrified? She's screaming again, her eyes on me.
I look down.
Metal.
Metal and red.
My hand slides through something slick almost sticky. A bit like warm jello. Why is there so much red?
It's a bar. Or maybe a pole. A long metal something with a broken end covered in red.
It's holding me against the wall. It's coming out of me. Just below my ribs.
Red pouring down my legs to puddle on the floor. Everything seems so slow. I think I may have hit my head a bit to hard.
He comes back into focus. Red eyes, wild hair, sharp teeth. Different than the other but just as strong.
Something other.
Something not human.
Like the others in scrubs. The ones preparing to cut into the girl.
He's a murderer.
He's the last.
I must stop him. He'll kill her.
I have to stop him.
I have to stop him.
I have to stop him.
My hand slides over a shelf and hits a handle. A cleaver. Larger than normal, long rectangular blade. I grip the handle with slick and sticky fingers.
I swing. Pushing away from the wall as I swing.
Pain in my ribs.
It feels like I'm being pulled in half.
He falls.
His head rolls away.
The puddle of red grows.
The pain is to much.
It hurts to much.
To much.