Page 13 of The Darkest Hour

Up? Fuck! The person is above me.

I didn’t even move my head up as I shot at the ceiling without looking.

A small foot hit my jaw.

I crashed into the wall.

Shit!

The guards behind me shot at the person, but it was too late. The person had kicked me and then dropped to the ground.

Where is he?

I squinted through the foggy space.

Then, a person landed on my shoulders and fabric wrapped around my face, suffocating me.

Shit!

I dropped my gun, clawing at the person. And those dumbass guards shot at the assassin and came close to hitting me. “Stop shooting!”

A whistle came.

The person jumped off me, propelling my body to the ground.

It had been a long time since I’d fallen in combat.

In fact, it had been years.

And here I was in a smoky hallway surrounded by guards and getting shoved into the ground like a fucking bullied high-schooler.

Who the fuck is this? I’m going to kill this asshole.

There was no time to glance or check around.

Whoever was doing this had serious training. The type of education that I’d had in my younger years.

I considered his weight when he landed on my shoulders.

Not heavy at all? It’s a slim guy.

Then, I spotted him walking up to me.

There you go.

I jumped off the floor and launched for the figure in front of me, tightening my hands around his neck, and cracking the bones easily.

I got you!

I slammed my fist into his head.

More bones cracked.

Warm blood spurted over my fingers and dotted my face.

“No!” Someone yelled.

A flashlight’s glow hit the man I’d just killed.