(RAFFAELE'S POV)
I take the stairs two at a time, my lungs burning from the smoke choking the entire place.
The first Red Devil doesn't even see me.
He's leaning over the railing, too busy firing down at the ground floor.
I rush him, slamming my shoulder into his back. His gun slips from his hand and he screams as he falls over the railing.
He goes quiet the second he hits the ground floor with a sickening thud.
The second soldier turns just as I reach him, his eyes go wide as I grab him by the front of his jacket and yank him hard, pulling him in front of me just as the others open fire.
His body jerks violently in my grip every time he's hit by a bullet.
His weight slumps against me, already going limp, but I lock an arm around his chest and push forward, using his dying body as a shield as I move straight toward the others.
Warm blood soaks into my hands, into my clothes, splattering across my face as the bullets keep tearing into him instead of me.
