Chapter IX: Targetted, Trapped, Terrified
A/N: I don't own Tekken anymore than you do.
Hello again, fans of Hwoarang and action/adventure!
Told you I'm updating soon! R&R plz!
Early evening, three days later
Hwoarang stumbled along, keeping his head low and his face concealed beneath the hood of his jacket. He kept glancing furtively over his shoulder from time to time, his eyes wide and wary. Ever since that heated argument, Hwoarang had been constantly on the move, cautiously prowling the streets, barely sleeping, and doing so only in secluded corners of abandoned parks.
He gritted his teeth, recalling how he had woken up this morning to find his shoes and backpack missing, presumably stolen. He stopped and cursed as he trod on a shard of glass with his bare foot, then moved into the shadow of a tall building, hugging himself against the bitter cold, bottom lip quivering.
He now began to wonder, for the umpteenth time that day, whether he had made the right choice. Running out on Baek and Lei had seemed like a good idea at the time- certainly, he was tired of Baek's lofty, I'm-in-charge attitude, of Lei's link with the Interpol, which had brought him nothing but trouble. But, if truth be told, that was not his main motive for splitting.
Fact was, Hwoarang had had time to realise that he was playing a dangerous game, floundering in a murky lake, the bottom of which he couldn't see, and he had no intention of dragging down innocent people, like Baek, Lei and that scientist whose name he couldn't remember, with him. That was why he'd taken off; the knowledge he was now privy to was dangerous. He still regretted his rudeness and ingratitude to Baek, but that was necessary. He didn't want Baek to remember him fondly; he didn't want the man to miss him if the Streltsy finally got him...
Master Kim left me a job, Hwoarang thought, again and again. To "do the right thing". Nobody can help me now, not Baek or Lei. I'm on my own. But soon shadows of doubt marred his certainty. What if Kim got it all wrong on his map? What if it didn't lead to the Streltsy's drug outlet after all? If that was the case, and hope surged through him at the thought, then the heavy yoke the Streltsy and Interpol had over his head would be lifted, for surely, the knowledge he had would then be meaningless...
Should he go scout the place out, to make sure Kim got his facts right? Or should he just keep moving, and hope they'd never find him? Hwoarang agonised over the decision, and was overcome by tears of hopelessness, coupled with the knowledge that he had once again been betrayed by the Interpol.
For it was mere hours after he had run away, that an unnamed source within the Interpol had leaked information to the local authorities and the press regarding his disappearance. The media referred to him as "a material witness", and he found his face all over National TV. He had officially become a marked man.
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Hwoarang glanced listlessly at the widescreen television that happened to sit on display at the front of an electronic hardware store. He moved closer as he heard the music that heralded the news, and held his breath as the anchor lady announced,"Breaking news,"then plunged into the story.
"There has been a serious breach of security at a press conference held in front of the Seoul Interpol HQ this afternoon. A man, who was described as having been standing on the sidelines, was shot dead, right after the meeting commenced. The lone assassin, believed to be a sniper, is yet to be apprehended. More details as we..."
But the rest of the sentence was drowned as Hwoarang gaped at the victim's picture being displayed onscreen. BAEK?! An icy hand began to claw at his heart as the words "shot dead" echoed in his mind. A filmy mist descended over his eyes, and the ground rushed up at him. A stranger caught him, steadied him, said words he couldn't hear. In slow, painstaking motion, Hwoarang yanked his elbow away and trusted his bare feet to take him as far away from the scene as possible...
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Once he had regained possession of his senses, Hwoarang realised that his subconscious had brought him to the one place where he could find answers, for he was standing on the outskirts of Seoul's Warehouse District. For a moment, he just stood there, and tried to banish the last conversation he had had with Baek, and the subsequent guilt, from his mind and soul. But then reason finally caught up and Hwoarang was thinking, what the hell was Baek doing out there anyway? Looking for Lei? Somehow he doubted it. He took a deep breath, then plunged into the maze.
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At first he made fair progress, but then his grief prevented his memory from bringing back the most complex details of the map, and he found himself hitting dead ends and running in circles. He gnashed his teeth in frustration, then retraced his steps to a delapidated old office building, whose rooftop he knew would provide him with an excellent view of the whole district.
He scaled a high wire fence, swearing as it caught the knee of his new jeans, then dropped onto the other side. He found the office building, and tried the main entrance. Locked. No big surprise. He took the fire escape instead and was soon clambering onto the roof. He perched on top like a bird of prey and contemplated the view. A slow grim smile spread across his lips. Yes, he knew where to go now; it was so easy to tell at that height and from that angle...
He stood up and headed for the old elevator, not relishing the prospect of using the fire escape all over again. His smile evaporated as the elevator gave an unexpected chink and its doors swung open, to reveal a tall figure swathed in a long, swishing coat. There was something about the stranger, perhaps his waxlike face, of a deathmask quality, or his pale luminous eyes, or even his lips, twisted into a thin line resembling a knife slash, that sent jolts of terror running down Hwoarang's spine, and in an instant he knew with an awful certainty that he had to get away, but instead he remained rooted to the spot, mesmerised by the hypnotic qualities of the man's eyes. The man had covered most of the distance between them in two, quick silent strides, before Hwoarang ran for it.
He pelted away from the stranger, only to feel himself plummeting downwards, as the wire mesh he'd stepped on gave way, and he fell ten feet into an exhaust shaft and landed with a sickening thud, the wind almost knocked out of him, experiencing a searing pain in his left arm, which lay mangled beneath him. With a light leap, the stranger soon joined him in the pit, and chose to watch his pitiful attempts at crawling away, before he rolled him onto his back with his black boot, again surveying him with those lifeless eyes...
The man then withdrew a syringe filled with a murky fluid from an inner pocket of his coat, and Hwoarang let out a strangled yell, for he had guessed what was in it, as the man bent to his level, and with slow, dreamlike movements, like the grim reaper he was, seized Hwoarang's wrist with his cold, pale, long-fingered hand, wrenched back his sleeve, and pumped him full of the stuff.
The man stood up, drew back, a strange wraith illuminated by the tiny sliver of sky visible from within the shaft, then he was gone. Hwoarang was left in a sickening sweat, and he felt his body burning, his organs beginning to cook up, as the foul fluid penetrated further into his veins. He lost control of his limbs, which twitched grotesquely, and then his face began to contort, and his whole body experienced wracking seizures, a single sentence from a past life ringing in his ears: Once the victim is dead, LDF decomposes into harmless substances in the body, rendering the cause of death unknown.
Please, let it stop! He begged the higher powers above, as his agony intensified. So I can see Baek again...
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A/N: Wow, Hwoarang's in a real sticky spot! And is Baek really gone? Find out next chapter!And Happy Eid and Merry Christmas to all!