Death's Bullet

Part 4:

Bryan wearily pried open his aching eyes. A skyscraper. That was what was standing over him casting its cold metallic shadow on anything it could reach. Blue eyes blinked a few times to clear the image. Now taking its place was a man who happened to be really tall and looming over him with a murderous look in his eyes and a snarl on his lips.

First reaction was to get a way. A slight panic settled in Bryan's solar pelixs. Jumping up, Bryan smacked his head into the man's chin, tripped over the coffee table, rolled, and with his hands scrambling his body back until he hit a wall. In quick jerky movements he surveyed his surroundings. At his left was a hallway that leads to a, in order of rooms on the left side of the hallway was office, bathroom, and then a small living room.

The living room was connected to a glass door that leads to a patio with a gazebo surrounded by high bushes. On the right side of the hallway was first a door, which Bryan figured lead to a basement or something else. That thought gave him chills. After that it looks like the living room connected to a kitchen. The staircase lead to a second or third floor, depending if he counted the basement as one or not.

The tall man was approaching him and Bryan noted his features, he was about six foot five with deeply bronzed skin the color of cinnamon, dark eyes, and a shaved head. Bryan also was aware that this six foot man was made of lean muscle from head to toe. In his present state, Bryan was no match for him.

Glancing to the left, escape that way was probably the best option. Then Bryan noticed the mirror. He hated mirrors with about as much hate as anyone person possesses. Every time his eyes met that cold unfeeling surface his image was always portrayed to him. The way his eyes appeared, so empty with nothing going on behind him, the countless scars from battles and abuse, and the wave he moved with mechanic grace.

A hand wrapped its way around his ankle much like how a python kills its prey. His other leg kicked out instinctively. Where he hit the man's chin, was beginning to burse, which probably made the guy seethe. Bryan could seriously imagine the steam whisking out of his ears like in those cartons. Somehow Bryan couldn't find his voice to try and talk to this guy. He was probably a madman or a serial killer.

Dom looked at the man and judged him to be about Mia's age or 25. This man also only about inch taller than Mia's five foot seven height but there was something unusual about the guy. Dom couldn't put a figure on it but something was off. He had always liked puzzles and this guy was one. Where did he come from, Dom had never seen him around before and he knew nearly everybody.

The flaxen hair man began to struggle wildly. His hits were full of power and there was no one Dom was going to the garage with hits from some punk kid that Mia took pity on. Anger furrowed his brow.

Bryan had seen that look so many times before and it only increased his panic. There was no way that he would ever go back to that place, never.

The kid was struggling so furiously that Dom was having trouble. He slid the kid under him, straddled his waist and pin the punk's arms above his head. Even still, the guy kept thrashing for a few minutes, until he wore his self out.

Bryan was tired and he hurt all over. His head was throbbing where, during the struggle, his head hit the floor. With every breath his lungs ached. The man was cutting circulation off in his wrists and waist and his heart was pounding wildly against his battered rib cage.

Dom just watched the guy's reaction. His eyes were shut tight, lush mouth open and sucking in lungful of air. A sheen of sweated coated his lightly tanned skin. A slight pink tint shone on his cheeks. Dom noted that the man was skinny as if he hadn't eaten or slept in a while. He also looked sick. Mia had taught him the signs of simple disease and if bones were broken. Just in case something happened and don couldn't get his teammates to the hospital right away.

Icy eyes snapped open and Dom almost back off.

So many dark images were coming to Bryan's stressed mind. The laughing at guards and her laugh. He hated her and to free himself completely he would have to kill her.

A dark fear would be the only way that Dom's mind to grasp the look in his eyes. Fear so dark and deep it consume the person like deep water and the person was drowning. Struggling but no matter how hard they kicked or clawed the water the surface was out of reach.

What could happen to a person to change them into something like that?

Back at headquarters, MT rested her back against the plush leather swivel chair. All the lights in the room were shut off, leaving the pale moon's glow to laminate anything. She sipped dark red wine, tracing her finger around the rim in between drinks from the delicate wine glass with its gold encrusted handle.

Bryan I will get you back, she thought mentally. A devilish grin spread across her face.