You don't wanna kill me... You are gonna be in a whole lot of trouble if you do..."
The words hung in the air, silence reigning the room as breeze from the AC flowed gently in the tense environment.
The words... the calm yet anxious words weren't the first time the assassin had heard from someone.
In fact, he was used to hearing them quite a lot. From people he was tasked to kill. From people, desperate to stay alive. From people, the Bratva and their friends despised.
So he just adapted to it, showing no signs of concern or distress once the words hit his eardrums.
He knew he was already in hell and that killing Andrey was not even a quarter of the pain he had to go through in his daily life.
Blood dripped from his brutal, sickening gashes, soaking his red blazer with a deeper shade of crimson.
Andrey, on the other hand, had a ton of blood gushed out, streaming from his violently shattered nose.
Both the men were in fierce pain, tears filling up their eyes due to the stinging of their wounds.
However, one of them couldn't help but tremble in it while the other just kept his eyes dead serious, focusing deeply on his goal.
"...I already am..."
BANG!
Shot right through the forehead, only that his target was still alive. As he did not shoot Andrey. Instead he shot the guard that interrupted his kill.
Just as he was about to pull the trigger, multiple guards barged in through the office door, firing at the young killer.
Killing the first guard came at a price as multiple bullets landed on the right side of his body.
However, none of them actually pierced through him.
For his suit was not just any ordinary piece of attire but a kevlar body armor, designed specifically for bodyguards and hitmen to protect themselves.
But even without perforating his body, the force of the bullets still hurt a lot, enough to cause the spots to swell up and blacken.
After the first guard fell, the young man swiftly pointed the barrel at his target, pulling the trigger once and for all.
But alas, to his surprise, the gun was empty.
Realizing this, Andrey did not waste another second, rushing towards his security for his safety.
And realizing this, the young assassin covered his head with his kevlar sleeve, running towards Andrey's desk.
Reaching the guards, Andrey was covered by four of his men, taking him to the rooftop for his chopper to pick him up.
The assassin, on the other hand, dove behind the desk, taking cover from the bullets following him.
The guards all mercilessly fired at the desk, hoping to strike the man through the wood.
However, the young killer already knew it as he immediately went into a fetal position, laying horizontally on the floor so that the bullets avoid him.
But he wasn't just waiting for them to finish up their rounds.
Instead whenever the guards were reloading their pistols, he would pull out the drawers one by one, rapidly as he did, in search for only one thing: bullets.
His luck, however, was not turning out to be as bright today as it was for his accomplishments before, prompting him to find nothing of value aside from a stapler, a box of cigars, a lighter and a small calculator.
Fortunately his luck was never brighter than an abandoned factory light bulb, allowing him to be one up in adaptability since the first day of his life.
Using the cigar cutter from the box, the young man cut up the head and lit it up, taking a couple of heavy puffs not to smoke but to give the foot a burnt end.
Listening to the ticking sound of the lighter, the guards knew he was planning on something, prompting them to be as careful as they could.
By then, all three of the guards had stopped wasting their rounds and were closing in onto the desk, slowly and steadily moving with the single purpose of putting a bullet in their target's head.
One of them was the closest to their goal while the other two had quite the distances. But that didn't stop them from pointing the gun at the assassin's direction.
Before putting the lighter in his trousers, the young man sat up from the floor and ignited the wooden box with the cigars, creating a smelly, white smoke from its edges.
With almost all of it set, the man put his empty gun on the floor, the burnt cigar on his mouth, the stapler and the calculator on one hand and the ignited wooden box on the other.
He kneeled, his foot at the tip of the pistol, concentrating intently on the sound of the stealthy steps from the personnels closing in.
The stinging pain on his slashed face was not something he was feeling at the moment, nor was the fire coming in contact with his fingers.
The adrenaline he had was only used for focusing onto the guards nearing onto the desk so that he could strike at the right moment.
And so, when he deemed that the first guard was at the perfect distance, he wasted no more time.
He immediately kicked the empty pistol away, serving it as a momentary distraction for the guards.
However that wasn't the only distraction he had up his sleeves as he swiftly stood up from the floor, hurling the small calculator at the closest guard's nose.
Without wasting even a second, the young assassin then launched the stapler at the second guard's face before launching the burning box at the third one.
And without even thinking straight, all the guards flinched and grunted at the hits, leaving the first one open for the killer to incapacitate.
He hastily picked up Andrey's office laptop from on top of the desk and swung a sharp 360, slapping the crap out of the guard.
Flying out a couple of teeth from his mouth, the guard staggered to keep his balance, blood splattering from both his gums and nostrils.
As the laptop reached the floor with the streams of blood and teeth, the assassin grabbed the guard's wrist, pointing the gun at the ceiling.
And so, as he staggered, the man quickly brought out his cigar, doing what he was planning to do from the first moment he lit it up...
A quiet sizzling sound rose in the office, followed by a painfully loud shriek from the guard as the hot burnt foot of the cigar delved into something liquidy and jelly-like... His eye.
Fortunately the shriek was cut short with a simple pull of a trigger, the bullet popping off from the guard's own pistol.
Brains and gore popped off from the top of his skull, raining down on the shiny floor.
However, the young assassin did not allow his corpse to fall on the ground yet as it was providing him with the service of deflecting the bullets, shot by the other two guards.
Holding his cover properly, the man shot the second guard's ankle before ending the man's misery by putting a bullet in his forehead.
But as he did, the other guard had enough time to target the assassin's head.
Unfortunately for him, he wasn't as successful as he hoped to be, for he shot the corpse's head rather than his target's.
And so, the killer grimaced, the sudden burst of gore bathing his face as his head moved down as a sudden reflex.
However, the blood wasn't enough to distract his experienced eyes, allowing him to already focus on the situation that he was in.
Coming back to his senses after only a few seconds, the assassin dropped the body on the ground, covering his face with his kevlar fibred sleeve before firing the gun twice on the final guard's torso.
With a final bullet to finish up the drill, the young man finally removed this obstacle between him and the office door.
Wiping away the blood from his eyes, the man clenched his jaw as the slashes on his face kept on stinging due to the sleeve rubbing them.
Checking the mag in his pistol, the man muttered in disappointment as he found out that it only had two rounds left.
He threw the mag away before collecting rounds from all of the corpses, reloading his glock-17.
He then collected an earpiece from one of the corpses, putting it on his right ear to be aware of what the security is doing to stop him.
Even though he wasn't showing it, the man was in immense pain as the sting rapidly increased every second.
It was because he didn't have anything to focus on anymore, anything to distract the pain from.
The left side of his face was severely bruised, swelled up and completely filled with horrifying gashes.
Blood constantly streamed from the wounds, soaking up the red suit while droplets fell onto the ground.
His right hand was terribly bruised and blackened with small but multiple counts of lacerations bleeding thin streams of crimson profusely.
He gripped his abdomen with that hand, blood trickling and mixing with the crimson of the wound, caused by Andrey's blow with the shattered mug.
He winced, grunted at the grip as he exited the office, blood droplets trailing on the brown carpet.
But he kept his composure, his teary, blood filled, furrowed blue eyes dead lock on what's in front of him.
His mind was still running calmly, his face portraying no signs of panic as he proceeded towards the elevator, thinking how exactly he's gonna deal with his punishment...