"Hmm... look who's here," said a mysterious voice as it watched Abraham lying helpless. The figure carried Abraham to an old, empty warehouse nearby.
The sound of the night wind filled the dilapidated warehouse. The faint moonlight cast eerie shadows on the weathered wooden walls. The smell of dust and rust filled the air, creating a heavy, suffocating atmosphere.
In the middle of the warehouse, Abraham began to move. Pain spread throughout his body, but what concerned him more was the fact that his hands were tightly bound behind a fragile wooden chair.
Footsteps echoed from the dark corner of the room. Then, the sound of a shotgun being cocked shattered the silence. Click. A large figure emerged from the darkness, a man wearing a wide-brimmed hat, holding a shotgun aimed straight at Abraham's chest.
"Hmm... look who's here," the man said with a mocking tone. His smile was cynical, his eyes cold. "Sergei sent you here, huh?"
Abraham glared at the man, his face twisted in disgust. "I'd rather die than become that bastard's dog," he said, his voice filled with rage.
The man with the hat laughed loudly, his laughter echoing through the warehouse. "Hahaha! You're pretty funny for someone who's about to die." He adjusted his hat, bowing slightly so his face was barely visible. "Unfortunately, humor like that won't save you."
He aimed the shotgun at Abraham's head, his finger slowly pressing the trigger. "Hey, wait a minute!" Abraham shouted, his voice tense. "You're mistaken!"
The man with the hat grinned, his gaze growing more vicious. "Tell that to the guards of hell, pal."
The decisive moment
As the man prepared to shoot, Abraham did the unexpected. With all the strength he had left, he swung his body backward, causing the chair he was sitting on to crash to the floor.
BANG!
The shot echoed loudly, the shotgun shell destroying the wooden wall behind Abraham. Dust and splinters filled the air. Abraham lay on the floor, gasping, but alive.
The man with the hat was momentarily startled, but he quickly readied his gun again, aiming it at Abraham. "You're good at dodging, but this time you won't be as lucky," he said, stepping forward, preparing for a second shot.
Abraham knew he had only seconds before his life was truly in danger.
"Wait! You're misunderstanding! Listen to me!" Abraham shouted, his voice shaking but trying to buy time. He twisted his body right and left, like an animal cornered, hoping to find a way out.
The man with the hat lifted the shotgun again, aiming it at Abraham's chest. "This time I won't miss," he said, his voice cold and confident. He grinned, his cold eyes staring at Abraham with satisfaction. "Adiós."
However, before he could pull the trigger, a hard kick suddenly struck the shotgun in his hands. The weapon flew sideways, crashing to the floor with a loud noise, sliding into the corner of the room.
The man with the hat froze, his face full of shock. "What—?" He didn't have time to finish his sentence.
Abraham, still lying on the floor, quickly threw his body forward, charging at the man, causing both of them to fall to the ground. In a matter of seconds, Abraham had locked the man's movements using a jiu-jitsu technique he had learned over years of being a war soldier.
The man with the hat struggled, his face turning red as Abraham tightened his grip on his neck. His breath was labored, and he fought desperately to break free, but it was futile. "How... how did you get out of your restraints?" he rasped, his eyes wide with disbelief.
Abraham grinned coldly, his face inches away from the man. "Magic," he answered briefly, his voice flat but full of victory. He increased the pressure on the chokehold, making the man with the hat choke even more.
Abraham twisted his body not out of fear of dying, but to scrape the rope binding his wrists. The old chair's edge became his secret weapon. With a calmness opposite to the situation, he slowly rubbed the rope against the chair until it snapped.
"I don't know what your connection to Sergei is," Abraham said coldly, "but you've picked the wrong enemy."
The man with the hat gasped, his voice hoarse but loud. "I'm not a member of the R.E.D. Guild!" he shouted, his breath ragged like someone drowning, gasping for air.
Abraham paused, staring sharply at the man. Without saying another word, he tightened his hold on the man's neck until he lost consciousness.
Minutes passed, and the sound of splashing water echoed in the empty warehouse. Abraham splashed water on the man's face, waking him with a choking breath. The man opened his eyes, confused, finding himself bound tightly to the same chair—this time, much more securely.
"Wake up," Abraham ordered, his voice calm but firm.
The man with the hat glanced around, realizing his position had been reversed. "Now we've switched places, huh?" he muttered bitterly, his tone full of despair.
Abraham approached, his eyes locking onto the man's. "Where are we?"
"Northwest of the city," the man with the hat replied weakly.
"Why are you here?"
"I'm hiding from Sergei and his dogs," he answered, still gasping for breath.
"Why hide here?" Abraham pressed.
"Because I don't want to be Sergei's dog again."
Abraham squinted his eyes. "What do you mean by 'again'?"
The man with the hat swallowed hard, then began to speak. "I used to be a member of the R.E.D. Guild. They took me because I could fix machines and electricity. At first, everything seemed normal... until I saw Sergei kill one of his subordinates over something trivial."
He paused for a moment, his voice turning bitter. "He didn't just kill that guy, but his whole family. They all died, just because one of them didn't show respect. After seeing that, I decided to run. I knew if I made a mistake, I and innocent people would meet the same fate."
"My escape didn't go smoothly," he continued, lowering his head as dark memories flooded back. "They found me in the woods. I got hit by a few bullets, thinking I was going to die... until that dark creature appeared and attacked them. I ran as fast as I could until I found this old warehouse."
Abraham fell silent for a moment, staring at the man with an unreadable gaze. Then, he picked up the shotgun lying on the floor.
"Hey, hey, wait! I'm sorry! I didn't know you weren't part of them!" The man with the hat panicked, cold sweat trickling down his forehead. "Sorry for doubting you. I didn't mean to kill you!"
Abraham didn't respond. He walked behind the man, pointing the shotgun at his head. The man with the hat shut his eyes tightly, his body trembling.
BANG!
The deafening blast filled the warehouse. The man with the hat froze, his heart stopping for a moment. Slowly, he opened his eyes, realizing he was still alive. The bullet had only pierced the ropes that bound him.
"Oh, thank God!" he gasped in relief, his breath coming in shallow gasps.
Abraham stared coldly at him, then handed him the shotgun. "You're going to help me take down Sergei," he said firmly.
They left the old warehouse with whatever weapons and ammunition they had. Abraham walked confidently ahead, while Rick followed behind, occasionally glancing at the gun he had just grabbed from their brief skirmish. The night air was still cold, but the sky was beginning to show signs of dawn.
"Did you bring me to escape?" Rick asked, his voice flat but curious.
Abraham kept walking without changing his pace. "I need to see my daughter," he replied, his voice deep and heavy.
Rick was silent for a moment, letting the words settle in his mind. "Hey... by the way, what's your name?" he asked, trying to break the awkward silence.
Abraham paused for a moment, glancing back slightly. "Abraham... Abraham Cornwell."
Rick smiled and said his name lightly, "Nice to meet you, Abraham. I'm Rick Richard."
Minutes passed. The forest was growing colder, and dim light filtered through the trees. They walked in silence until Rick suddenly stopped. His eyes were fixed on the distance.
"Hey, Abraham... you need to see this," Rick said anxiously, pointing ahead.
Abraham turned to look, then saw it—the thick black smoke rising into the sky. His face tensed, his body seemed covered with a cold dread. Without thinking, he ran toward the smoke, Rick quickly following, gasping for air.
They reached the source of the smoke. The sight before Abraham made time feel like it had stopped. Before him, his hideout was burning fiercely. Flames licked the sky, devouring wood and stone, leaving only the crackling of embers.
Abraham stood frozen, his legs heavy, his mind adrift. In his eyes, there was only one image. "Anastasiaaa!"
He ran toward the house engulfed in flames, ignoring the searing heat on his face.
Rick tried to catch up with him, grabbing Abraham's arm and pulling with all his strength. "Abraham! Wait! You can't go in there! You'll die!" Rick shouted, trying to stop him.
But Abraham struggled, trying to break free. His eyes were wild, filled with panic. "Anastasiaaa!" he screamed again, his voice hoarse, nearly swallowed by the roar of the flames.
Rick didn't let go, holding tight, trying to bring Abraham back to his senses. "You'll die for nothing! You can't save anyone if you burn to death!"
Abraham's cries and screams grew quieter until he finally collapsed to his knees, weak. His shoulders shook, and his sobs broke through the sound of the ever-burning fire. Rick stayed there, standing next to him, saying nothing, just lowering his head with the same deep sorrow.
Thick smoke continued to rise into the sky, leaving destruction and unbearable grief in the silence of the dawn.