Ali smirked as he extracted his machete from the lifeless body of a guard, surveying his handiwork with satisfaction. To his left, two more guards lay dead, their heads stabbed through.
He had found these three resting, caught off-guard, and had silently dispatched them without giving them the chance to react.
After a quick check to make sure no one was left alive, Ali continued up the stairwell, systematically clearing every floor, sparing no corner or darkened corridor. His meticulous search carried him through five more levels until, at last, he heard shouting above him.
"Finally," he muttered under his breath, a spark of anticipation lighting in his dark eyes.
Drawing closer, he strained to make sense of the chaos echoing down the stairwell. 'Sounds like a squad running around in panic', he thought, analysing the voices and frantic footsteps.
At the door to the next floor, he carefully peeked inside, his eyes scanning the scene.
'Found you bastards... Now, what could you all be doing here?' he wondered with grim amusement as he observed fourteen guards hurriedly barricading the entrance to the floor.
They stumbled over the corpses of both players and fallen guards, the floor looking more like a construction site strewn with bodies than any stronghold.
His eyes narrowed as they landed on an older man, likely in his sixties, barking orders at the guards. The man had two handguns at his hips and a spear strapped to his back. 'The captain responsible for all of this', Ali thought, a wry smile forming. 'He's practically gift-wrapped for me'.
Without a hint of hesitation, Ali walked through the entrance, making his presence known. The captain, mid-conversation with one of his men, fell silent.
Every guard froze, turning as one to look at the tall, imposing figure striding into the room, his black eyes calm, confident, and unwavering.
Ali stopped a few steps into the room, eyeing the captain, who reached for his guns, unholstering them slowly. "Young man, I think you're lost," the captain sneered, trying to mask his unease.
Ali's gaze swept over the assembled guards, his expression unchanging. "No, I'm pretty sure I'm in the right place. I was told to look for a floor full of pussies," he replied, his voice dripping with disdain as he met each guard's stare.
"Yep, this is it."
At his final word, every guard's face twisted in fury. They tightened their grips on their weapons-machetes, swords, hammers-glaring menacingly at Ali.
"Very funny, kid," the captain spat, his voice rising. "Maybe my boys here can teach you some manners... By ripping your fucking tongue out and making you eat it!"
On his command, the guards surged forward, weapons raised, their confidence bolstered by sheer numbers.
Ali merely relaxed his hands at his sides, fingers splayed as he leaned forward slightly. In the next instant, he vanished, moving so swiftly he was nearly invisible.
He reappeared in front of the closest guard, who didn't even have time to register his presence.
UGH
The guard, mid-swing, blinked down in shock as two fist-sized holes appeared in his chest, one on each side, both lungs punctured clean through. The man wheezed as his body collapsed, his attacker already moving past him. Ali's hands slipped in and out of guards' bodies with a deadly grace, cutting through flesh and bone as if they were made of paper. His technique was so precise that blood didn't even stick to his hands, leaving each man dead in the split second it took to reach the next.
Within moments, seven guards lay dead, their bodies strewn across the floor, vital organs ripped from their torsos by Ali's unyielding hands. To anyone watching, it looked as if death itself moved among them, silent and unstoppable.
The captain's eyes widened, a jolt of terror flashing through him. With a snarl, he raised his handguns and fired into the chaos, caring little for the lives of his own men who stood in the line of fire.
Ali's mocking smile was the only thing the captain saw before he emptied both magazines in a panicked frenzy.
Ali reacted instantly, reaching out and stabbing each hand into the stomachs of two nearby guards, driving his arms through their torsos until he gripped their spines. He lifted both men effortlessly, holding them before him as human shields.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
The two guards screamed in excruciating pain as Ali held them suspended by their own spinal columns. Their agony was mercifully short-lived as the captain's bullets tore through them from behind, ending their lives.
Ali waited patiently, letting the gunfire spray into the bodies until he heard the ominous click of empty triggers. With a disdainful flick, he tossed the lifeless bodies aside and looked ahead, noticing two more guards lying dead, killed by their own leader's reckless shooting.
Ignoring them, Ali dashed toward the last two guards stationed near the captain.
He leaped into the air, spinning horizontally before delivering a brutal kick to one guard's face. The impact was so powerful that the man's head collapsed under the force, his body crumpling to the ground, decapitated in one fluid motion.
His comrade had only a heartbeat to react before Ali planted his hands on the ground, using them to propel himself into another spin. He brought his heel down in a crushing kick that shattered the last guard's skull, killing him instantly.
Ali landed gracefully, facing the captain, who now stood alone, visibly shaking, his face drained of colour. The captain, desperate, reached for the spear on his back, and Ali allowed him the brief satisfaction of drawing his weapon. He swung the spear with all his strength, but Ali caught it effortlessly, inches from his face, holding it steady despite the captain's frantic attempts to wrench it free.
UGH
The captain gasped as Ali drove a kick into his stomach, the sheer force sending him skidding across the floor to the room's centre. Doubling over in pain, he struggled to stand, looking up in horror as Ali methodically moved across the room, dispatching any guards who had reanimated as zombies. With a swift, ruthless efficiency, Ali drove the spear into their skulls, silencing them one by one.
Each step toward the captain seemed to sap the old man's will, his terror growing as Ali's cold, merciless gaze bore into him. At last, Ali stood over the captain, who lay sprawled on the floor, clutching his abdomen, unable to rise after the brutal kick had damaged his organs.
"Please... please, I beg you," the captain stammered, voice trembling as he scrambled backward. "I'll do anything-anything you want, just... no, no, please—"
His plea was cut off as Ali brought down the spear, driving it through the captain's lower stomach and pinning him to the ground with his own weapon.
"AAAAAAAH! IT HURTS-UGH-UGH!"
The captain's anguished screams filled the room as Ali calmly retrieved the handguns from his fallen foe's belt, reloading both with the last two clips the captain had left.
'Desert Eagles. Good condition', Ali noted, briefly inspecting the sleek black weapons before he turned his gaze back to the old man, whose pleas had turned to choked sobs.
Without a word, Ali knelt, pressing the barrel of one handgun into the captain's mouth, silencing his cries. The other he rested against his forehead, the cold metal pressing into the man's skin.
"What was that about my tongue?" Ali asked softly, his voice dripping with mockery.
BANG. BANG.
Both shots rang out, silencing the captain forever. Ali stood slowly, guns still raised, staring down at the lifeless form pinned to the ground.
BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG
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