Black-Heart: Trapped


The thought rang loud in Aaron’s head echoing as he lost the battle he’d been fighting deep inside his mind.  He’d known that this moment would come and had dreaded it, but he knew that there was nothing he could do now.

His blurred vision suddenly came into focus and the world around him seemed to slow.  His senses suddenly heightened, his muscles tightening, his movements sure and fast.  But they were not his own movements.

Aaron watched through his own eyes as his muscles tensed and he shifted his weight.  His hand shot out, jabbing his straightened fingers into a nerve bundle on the man’s thick side, paralyzing him in a wash of pain that shot through his body all at once.  Aaron’s other hand shot out, grabbing the pistol that the man had displayed to him, ripping it from it’s holster on the man’s hip as he started to collapse.

He hit the release for the weapon and the cylinder popped open to the side in an instant, the auto-eject launching the bullets from the weapon.  Aaron watched as they dropped from the weapon, they weren’t the right size or make for his own pistol.

As the bullets hit the ground, the metal clinking on the ground, the two other men started to react.

Aaron’s actions had happened in the span of a few seconds, in a blur of motion that no one would have been able to follow.

The man with the implants reacted first.  Pulling out a knife, he stepped past his partner, shoving the man clutching his side to the ground behind him.

Aaron watching his movements as he came at him.  They were slow, clumsy.  Before the man with the implants could swing at him, Aaron stepped forward, hooking one foot under the man’s feet and slamming the butt of the empty pistol he held in to his knife hand with all his might.

The motion was complete blur of speed as the the man’s hand swung, the knife digging straight into his own thigh as Aaron’s foot swept his balance away, toppling him backward on to the ground with a scream of pain.

Aaron turned dropping the empty pistol and reaching into his jacket, extracting his own heavy, black pistol.  He pulled it from it’s packaging and out of his pocket, raising his arm and taking aim at the the third and final of the three that had confronted him.

The man had pulled a pistol of his own and was just taking aim.  He froze mid-aim, his hands shaking as he stared back at Aaron, fear and anger mixing in the man’s eyes.

Aaron stared back, his own gaze a blank stare devoid of emotion or thought.

His finger tightened on the trigger of the pistol, his gaze steady.  As if possessed, he slowly, calmly pulled the trigger of the weapon.  The cylinder rotated as he squeezed the trigger.  The firing mechanism worked and there was a hollow click that seemed to echo loudly from the weapon.

The man blinked, unsure of what had happened.

In that instant, Aaron shifted his weight and stepped to the side.  In the next instant he was behind the man, and Aaron’s elbow came down hard on the center of the man’s back.  He toppled forward, crashing to the ground in one motion.

Aaron stood straight his gaze slowly shifting from the men on the ground to the crowd that had gathered around them.  The people on the thoroughfare had parted as soon as the fight broke out, retreating to a safe distance, watching with looks of shock on their faces.

“Run!  Get out of here!” thought Aaron frantically.  He would have shouted at them, but he had no control over his actions.  He had become completely consumed.

Then he saw them…  In the crowd not all were staring frozen in shock, some were looking on with anger and hatred.  And they were moving through the crowd, preparing to take action.

Aaron knew he needed to get away from here, to leave, to run as far as fast as he could.  The consequences that he would face if they got their hands on him would be dire and though he doubted they would be able to kill him outright, he didn’t like the prospect of them trying.

“Demon!  You will kill them all…”

“NO!” thought back Aaron, fighting the will of the curse with his own.

“We will kill them all…”

Aaron felt his legs tense and he leaned forward, springing into motion, diving into the crowd faster than of the onlookers could see, let alone react to, making for the nearest of his new assailants.

The man carried a large metal bat and was still looking into the center of the circle to where Aaron had vanished from.  He didn’t see Aaron’s strike and toppled with a scream of pain, dropping the bat.

The crowd turned to see what had happened, starting to panic, but Aaron had vanished, dashing through the onlookers to his next target.  The woman had pulled out a set of throwing knives and was better trained than the rest.  She had seen what was happening and was searching the crowd for him, her eyes alert.

“Look out!” Aaron wanted to shout, but there was nothing he could do.  He was helplessly trapped inside his own mind.

The woman blinked and she saw him then.  She reacted, but she was too slow in throwing the knife.

Aaron reached out grabbing it from the air.  He felt the cold metal of the blade slice into his hand and warm blood start to flow from the wound.  The pain would reach him momentarily, but it was nothing compared to what he had experienced in his last line of work.

He flipped the knife around in his hand as he came upon her, the hilt was light in his fingers, slick with his own blood.  In one motion, he slashed a wound from her hip to her shoulder, dropping the small blade as he dashed past her.

She let out a scream, collapsing to the ground.

Aaron didn’t stick around though as he’d already located his next target.  The man was older, getting on by only a few years, a veteran.  He had his combat rifle out and was shoving his way through the crowd as quickly as he could to get to the woman.

“Get out of here!” thought Aaron frantically.

Trying to focus his thoughts toward regaining control, Aaron only just caught the glint of the blade out of the corner of his eye.  It swung up at him through the crowd so fast he barely had time to raise his pistol, taking a different grip on it.  The blade and the weapon contacted with a clash of metal on metal, the force of the swing sent Aaron sliding back into the crowd.

His sudden appearance out of nowhere sent people running, screaming from around him.

This gained the attention of the veteran who raised his rifle to take aim through the surge of frantic people.  He didn’t fire though, there were too many people to get a clear shot.

Aaron faced his new opponent in the space opening around the two of them.  The swordsman stood facing Aaron, his blade in hand, stance relaxed, but on guard.

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