After picking up the dead guard's pistol I pressed my hands against my chest while pointing the pistol sideways at 45 degrees angle downwards and kicked open the nightclub's door with a swift, forceful motion, the heavy steel swinging inward with a satisfying thud.
The dim hallway beyond was bathed in neon light, casting eerie shadows on the walls. The pulsating beat of the music echoed in my ears, a thumping rhythm that matched the pounding of my two hearts.
I moved swiftly, like a predator stalking its prey, my senses heightened and every muscle in my body coiled with tension.
Ahead, two more guards turned, their eyes widening in surprise as they saw me. They reached for their weapons, but I was faster.
I leveled the pistol and squeezed the trigger three times. The first guard dropped instantly, a neat hole between his eyes as he crumpled to the ground.
The second guard managed to get off a shot, the bullet whizzing past my ear, but I remained unfazed.
I shifted my aim and fired again, the two shots hitting him square in the chest. He staggered backward, his body slamming against the wall before sliding down, leaving a smear of blood in his wake.
The smell of gunpowder filled my nostrils, sharp and acrid, mingling with the faint scent of sweat and alcohol that permeated the air. My pulse remained the same as I stepped over the bodies, the sound of my boots against the floor muffled by the thick carpeting.
I kicked open the next door and entered the main dance floor. The scene before me was a stark contrast to the violence that had just unfolded.
Flashing lights painted the room in hues of electric blue, red, and green, creating a disorienting, almost surreal atmosphere.
The music was louder here, a pounding bassline that shook the floor beneath my feet. Young men and women filled the room, their bodies moving to the rhythm, lost in the ecstasy of the moment.
But their obliviousness wouldn't last for long.
I raised the pistol, the cold metal steady in my hand, and fired a few shots into the ceiling. The gunfire echoed through the room, drowning out the music for a brief moment. Plaster and dust rained down as the bullets tore through the ceiling, and the dancers froze in place, their eyes wide with shock and fear.
Panic set in almost instantly. Screams filled the air, sharp and piercing, as the crowd erupted into chaos.
People shoved past one another, desperate to escape, their faces contorted in terror. The once-thrumming dance floor was now a mass of writhing bodies, all pushing towards the exits, trying to flee the nightmare that had descended upon them.
A young man stumbled and fell at my feet, his eyes wide with fear as he looked up at me. I could see the terror in his gaze, the realization that he was standing in the path of something deadly, something unstoppable.
I stepped over him without a second thought, my focus unwavering as I moved further into the nightclub, the chaos swirling around me like a storm.
As the crowd scattered, fleeing in terror, I remained in the center of the dance floor, my breath steady, my focus sharp.
The pulsating lights continued to flash around me, casting eerie shadows as I stood alone amidst the chaos. But I wasn't alone for long.
Thirty men looking the part poured into the room, armed with a variety of weapons—some brandishing pistols, others holding knives, bats, and metal pipes. They moved with a cocky arrogance, their faces twisted into sneers as they closed in around me.
"You think you can walk in here and start something? Courting death, you bastard!"
One of them shouted, raising his gun and pointing it at me.
I smirked, unfazed by their bravado without wasting a second, I aimed and fired, my hands moving with lethal precision.
The first shot hit a thug square in the chest, and he crumpled to the ground, his weapon clattering from his grasp.
I turned and fired again, taking out a second man who was just about to pull the trigger. The third shot hit another gunman, sending him sprawling backward into the arms of his comrades.
But as I lined up my next shot, the pistol clicked empty. Out of ammo.
One of the gangsters, seeing this as his opportunity, charged at me, swinging a bat. I tossed the empty pistol into the air, sidestepped his swing, and caught the gun mid-air.
With a fluid motion, I slammed the pistol's grip into his eye with such force that it punctured through bone, driving deep into his brain. His body went limp, collapsing at my feet as I let go of the now useless weapon.
"Come on you c*nts I dont have all night come at me at once"
I said, my voice cold as ice as I raised my fists, ready for the next attack.
The rest of the gangsters hesitated for a moment, but then, fueled by rage and adrenaline, they rushed at me as a group, weapons raised and yelling threats.
I met their charge head-on.
The first thug swung a knife at me, but I caught his wrist, twisting it sharply until I heard a sickening snap.
He screamed in pain, but I silenced him with a brutal knee to the stomach causing his organs to rupture apart, sending him to the floor.
Another came at me with a metal pipe, swinging it towards my head. I ducked under the blow, grabbed the pipe with one hand, and yanked it out of his grip before smashing it across his jaw. Teeth, blood, and flesh flew as he crumpled to the ground choking on his own blood.
One of the men, wielding a machete, lunged at me with a wild, desperate swing. I stepped inside his guard, catching his wrist with one hand and delivering a crushing elbow to his face with the other.
The machete dropped from his grasp, and I caught it mid-fall, driving it into his chest before spinning around to face the next attacker.
Another thug, this one armed with a switchblade, came at me from behind, thinking he had the element of surprise.
I spun just in time, the machete slicing through the air and severing his hand at the wrist. He screamed, stumbling backward, only to have his skull caved in by a kick from my boot.
The fight turned into a blur of fists, feet, and steel as I moved through the group like a force of nature.
I disarmed one after another, using their own weapons against them, my body moving with a fluidity and precision that was simply inhuman.
The sounds of bones breaking, flesh tearing, and the wet thud of bodies hitting the ground filled the air, blending with the fading music and the distant screams of the fleeing crowd.
One by one, the gangsters fell. The last of them, a burly man wielding a heavy chain, tried to bring it down on me, but I caught the chain in mid-swing, yanking it out of his hands.
I spun the chain around, wrapping it around his neck, and pulled it tight, crushing his windpipe as he clawed desperately at his throat.
His struggles weakened, and I kicked his legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the floor, the chain still wrapped tightly around his neck.
Finally, as the last of them lay motionless on the ground, I stood amidst the continuously enlarging pools of blood only for my eyes to spot the bar, I looked at the 30 vodka shots on the counter.
Oh, f*ck It why not?