BOOOOM!
"RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!"
A sudden riot erupted right in the street outside the store where I had a part-time job. And, just my luck, it happened right before my shift was supposed to end.
At this point, I seriously feel like someone, or maybe something, is deliberately trying to get me killed. Why do I always end up in the worst places at the absolute worst possible time?
Just this month alone, I had almost died twice!
Two damn times!
First, there was that all-too-convenient murder scene incident. I'd arrived at the worst possible moment, only to be suddenly surrounded by cops before I could even understand what had happened. I was scared shitless; I didn't know what to do or say. The corpse was just... there. A young lady, lying right in a pool of her own blood. And, I should probably mention, some very important parts of her body were missing. Yes, whoever the heck did it must have been a deranged, psychopathic lunatic.
But that wasn't the biggest problem. The issue was that the culprit, whoever they were, was long gone. Like, they'd successfully made a run for it before the cops arrived. This only made the situation far, far worse, since I'd have to explain a whole lot of things I knew nothing about. To cut a long story short, I found a way to blow up the building with a spoon and a really useful oven trick I saw once online.
Was it stupid?
Should I have just explained myself to the cops surrounding the building?
No. Absolutely not. That's not how things work around here. What matters in this part of the world is hard evidence. If you don't have any, then good luck and safe trip to hell. There was zero chance they were going to let me walk free that easily. I always heard that seventy to eighty percent of people in prison are there on false charges because someone had to take the fall. I wasn't about to risk my life with the cops, hoping some good detective would eventually trace whatever hopeless psycho did it and release me. I saved myself. I escaped that incident by the skin of my teeth. If I hadn't, I would have been locked up for something I had no hand in.
The second incident was right on campus—an explosion at the very minute which was supposed to be my cue to start the presentation for our group project. Was I scared some creepy, hairy fiend with five eyes was trying to eat me and everyone else there? Yes. Was I surprised? Not really, because all my life, shit just tends to find me.
And that was the same case right now.
At this very moment, while I was serving an annoying, stupidly picky customer who had finally placed an order after what felt like forever, two ladies and a guy showed up wearing masks and literally gunned down the branch manager.
Shit.
This is bad.
This is really bad.
"NO ONE GETS TO LEAVE BEFORE WE DO! GET ON YOUR KNEES NOW WHILE I'M ASKING NICELY! WHEN I COUNT TO TEN, ANYTHING THAT MOVES DIES!"
I wasn't stupid enough to think I could outrun a fully functional AK-47 that just sent the manager to hell, nor was I heroic enough to think I could fight them off. So, I did the smartest thing anyone in this room with any sense would do. I dove for the floor—not even on my knees, but lying face down flat on the ground with my arms spread wide.
"1... 2... 4... 10!"
BANG BANG BANG!
"MY ARM! ARGH!"
BANG BANG BANG!!
"TIMOTHY!"
BANG BANG BANG!!!
"MY ARM! MY ARM!!!"
"Hahahahahaha!"
Well, isn't that just great? A lunatic who derives pleasure from killing? It seems the universe truly wants me dead at all costs. What do I do now? These guys might be exactly like that Jester from the Blue Valley Incident—people who just want to see blood fly. If that's the case, then everyone here is cooked. It won't matter if you're obedient or not; everyone is going to die!
"The heroes will come. They'll come for us, yes, they will. They have to... sobs... they... they will come soon," someone lying right beside me, probably just as flat on the ground as I was, said in a trembling voice.
I scoffed internally. Heroes? If she meant super-powered heroes, then good luck and safe trip to hell. Those assholes never make it in time. Never! They only arrive after the villain has already had their fill of blood. Then they swoop in and scream justice lines like the cringy sons of bitches they are, shamelessly claiming to have stopped the damage and loss of life. You didn't stop shit, fool. You only escorted the villain to safety—which, in fact, is the prison they get sent to... if they even make it there before bursting out again.
Let's not dwell on that right now. I need to figure out a way to get out of this situation before things get too ugly.
"You monsters! Does it make you happy to see people suffer, to see people in pain?! How do you live with yourselves?! How do you sleep at night?!" I heard a loud roar of indignation.
What the hell? A hero actually came? Wait, maybe it's just some random normal guy with superpowers.
"Eh? What are you, a superhero?" one of the bad guys said. The voice sounded male.
"Nah, that can't be," came another voice. This one was female.
"Anyway, to answer your question. It does make me happy to see people in pain and suffering," the male voice said. "As for the night thing, I sleep like a baby."
The next thing that followed was a loud roar of pure anger, probably from... eh, I'll just call him the hero. A huge blast of wind followed, and the ground trembled. I could also feel the temperature drop sharply. Ice? Could it be the hero?
"Die!"
Another roar. At this point, I had to look up.
"GET DOWN!" I heard. My co-worker, Miss Kate, was trying to save a little girl who was trying to run away. And then, right there before my very eyes, a bullet shot straight through Kate's head.
"KATE!" I yelled. Just like that, she was dead.
"KYAAAAH!" Things were intensifying. The fight between the hero and the bad guys was killing many people caught in the crossfire.
I turned back to see the hero facing off against one of the girls whose mask was now off. To my greatest shock... it was someone I knew. Erika.
"DIE!" That foolish hero was shooting ice bullets and rods frantically, trying to kill the enemies. However, instead of hitting them, his attacks were killing innocent people left and right. The bastard didn't even care to notice.
"AHHHHH!" I heard the girl from earlier scream. A huge chunk of ice had just shot right through her leg. Her cry was so loud I had to cover her mouth before the bad guys killed her for being too noisy.
"I'm so sorry," I whispered to her. "But you have to hold it in. I understand, I know it hurts, but please, if you want to stay alive, hold it in, for your own sake." Tears streamed down her face as she screamed into her hands.
I have to escape. I have to escape now!
With that thought, I looked around only to realize that the windows were all blurred and impossible to see through. Wait, could one of those guys be isolating this space?
I didn't need an answer right now. What I needed was a spot to hide.
"There," I spotted the counter. I scooped the injured lady into my arms and rushed for the cover behind it. Fortunately, I was close before the whole thing started, so it only took about five to seven quick steps before I was safely there.
"ARGH!" I heard a scream of pain. I peeked over the counter and saw the situation had changed drastically:
The hero just lost an arm.