Jameson
Knuckles thwacked across my cheek for the third time. My head wheeled sideways and the wooden chair I was tied to rocked precariously.
I spat blood, heat pulsing through my face. I was definitely still hotter than this loser though. He looked like a giant thumb.
“Where did you get the gun?” he drawled for the hundredth time.
“From your mother's-” He punched me again, so hard the world spun for several seconds after. I panted, blood dribbling from my lips into my lap. “Womb,” I finished, laughing.
I'd taken the gun for insurance. What good was a distraction if I wasn't able to 'distract'?
“Enough!” he bellowed, hitting me again. My face felt like tenderised meat. But a Werewolf could withstand a hell of a lot more punches than this guy could dish out. “If you do not answer me, Mr Jones will have you removed from the resort.” He leant in close to my face, the smell of cigarettes washing over me. “In a body bag.”
I blinked away the ashy smell of his breath, wrinkling my nose. “Breath mints are free here. You have no excuse for-” CRACK.
My ears rang from the impact. The Thumb was still in my face. In fact, all I could see through my blurry vision was a vague outline of his bald head. I started laughing, manic, crazed laughter.
I reckon I've stalled long enough.
Raising my knees, I lifted my feet to his chest and slammed them as hard as I could into him. He lurched away the same time I fell backwards onto the floor. My wrists took the blow, but the only thing that broke was the chair. Wolf blood. Definitely some perks.
I shook off the coil of rope from my wrists, flying to my feet, finding the guard on the floor. He scrambled up onto his knees but not before I booted him hard in the face.
He collapsed to the ground again, reaching for his gun. Too slow. I whipped it from the holster, angling it down into his face.
“No- please!” he begged and a dark stain grew around his crotch.
I raised a brow, considering my next move before slamming the butt of the gun across his temple. He groaned, his head lolling as he passed out.
No one deserves to go out covered in piss.
I hurried to the door, jiggling the handle but finding it locked.
Hm. What now?
I eyed the keypad next to the door. Thumb print scanner. Lucky for me, I had a giant thumb in the room. I dragged the guy by the wrist, heaving his huge body to the door. I angled his thumb onto the scanner and a click sounded the door unlocking.
Easy peasy. The next part might be less than lemon squeezy though...
I opened the door, glancing out into the corridor. Empty. Result.
I thrust the gun into the back of my trousers, stepping out into the corridor. I hurried down it, figuring I'd be best to try and get back to my room, lay low until Varick and the others unleashed the rest of our plan. Arm myself good and proper before the going got tough.
A groaning noise caught my attention and I paused, pressing my ear to the door across the hall. I almost went to leave, when a sob reached me. I tried the handle, finding it locked.
“Help,” a girl moaned.
I wasn't the type to pass up the opportunity to be a hero. Leaning back, I rammed my shoulder against the door. It took two tries before the lock broke and I fell into the room.
I slid on something wet and just caught myself before I hit the ground. Blood soaked the floor, surrounding a blonde girl, her legs curled up to her chest.
“Gina?” I gasped, dropping to my knees. She lifted her head, a smile reaching her eyes as she took me in.
“I can help you,” I said quickly. I just needed V blood.
“No,” she breathed. “No more. Just hold...me.”
I held her close and with a sigh that sounded her relief, she died. A lump rose in my throat. I brushed the hair from her face, whispering an apology into her ear. No good. Nothing I did would take this back.
Footsteps pattered beyond the door and I whirled around. Shouts followed. I propped Gina against the wall, poking my head out of the room.
Three girls ran in to view. One of them held my attention the most. She was covered in blood, her fine gown drenched and her hair a mop of red. As her eyes locked with mine, I recognised her.
“Mercy?” I said in astonishment, stepping into the hallway.
“Run!” she hissed, charging faster toward me. The other girls drew my attention. Twyla-Rae and Sakura in long ball gowns. Ho-ly shit. What was going on?
I turned on my heel, not wasting a moment as I ran. I led them back to where I'd been held, yanking the door open and holding it wide for the girls. They filed in and I followed, slamming the door shut just as the commotion of guards drew closer. The door locked automatically and I relaxed. But the calm didn't last long.
Mercy yelped and I flung around, finding the Thumb up on his feet, his arm locked around her throat.
Blood poured from his nose as he gazed from me to the other girls. “Get back,” he growled. “Or I'll break her neck.”
I tutted. Shoulda killed the prick. Served me right for showing him mercy.
I looked to Sakura, her purple locks twisted around her shoulders. She didn't know me. But I knew her. Remembered her from the first game. I'd saved her life more than once. Hero that I was.
She moved in a flash, throwing the guard full-bodily against the back wall. Before he hit the floor, she pinned him to it by his throat and sank her teeth into his shoulder. Twyla shot forward, joining the food fest. The guard struggled uselessly as the girls had their fill of him.
Mercy stumbled toward me, taking my arm, guiding my attention away from the dying guard. “What now?” Her blue eyes sparkled up at me.
Oh, I was in charge. That felt good.
I gave her a cocky grin, dropping an arm around her shoulders. “Now we wait.”
“Wait?” she pouted. How did she still look like a petulant child even now, covered in blood, obviously having been through hell and back to get here?
“For the alarm.” I grinned, knowing it wouldn't be long now before our plan was put into place. A whole lot of dead spectators were gonna set off the alarm at any second. And when they did, we'd be ready to step the hell in. Course, I would rather have been armed to the teeth when that happened. But with the corridors filled with guards, I reckoned we were better off waiting until the time was right to move.
The Thumb slumped to the ground, pale-faced and very much dead.
Guess some people did deserve to die in their own piss.