CHAPTER 6
820 Words
Cathy’s breath came in short, panicked gasps as she cowered on the bed with her trembling hands gripping the torn sheets beneath her.
The men surrounding her grinned in sinister anticipation as they drew closer to her.
Two of them stepped closer to Cathy, just within arm’s reach, when suddenly—
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Loud shouts erupted from deep within the building, followed by the unmistakable sound of gunfire.
The walls shook as chaos unfolded downstairs.
The men froze mid-action, their expressions twisting into alarm.
"What the hell?" one of them growled, spinning toward the door.
"Someone's in here!" another shouted, reaching for his g*n.
They hastily pulled up their pants, grabbing their weapons in a frantic attempt to prepare for battle.
Before they could react further, the door to the room exploded open with a deafening crash.
Two men stood at the entrance.
They were dressed in dark tactical gear, their faces expressionless, and their eyes burning with icy determination.
The air around them crackled with danger.
The thugs in the room snarled in fury, realization dawning that these were the men responsible for the gunfire and screams coming from downstairs.
"You idiots have no idea what you've just walked into," one of the g**g members sneered, stepping forward.
But before he could act, the two intruders moved with lightning speed.
One of them lunged forward, twisting the nearest thug’s arm with a sickening c***k before driving his fist into the man’s stomach, sending him flying across the room.
The second intruder ducked beneath an oncoming punch, grabbed the attacker by the collar, and slammed his head into the wall, leaving him crumpled.
The remaining thugs in the room tensed, their fury boiling over.
"Who the hell do you think you are?!" barked the g**g’s leader—a massive, burly man with scars across his arms.
His muscles tensed with barely contained rage.
"You’ve got a death wish, and I’m about to grant it!"
Without another word, he and the other six men in the room charged at the intruders.
But the two were faster, sharper, deadlier!
The first intruder sidestepped the burly leader’s punch, spun around, and delivered a brutal elbow to the back of his head, making the man stumble forward, dazed!
Before he could recover, the rescuer hooked his foot around the thug’s ankle and swept him off his feet, sending him crashing to the ground.
Meanwhile, the second intruder caught an incoming knife strike with lightning reflexes, twisting the attacker’s wrist until the blade clattered to the floor.
In one fluid motion, he delivered a swift kick to the man's ribs, making him collapse in agony.
Two more men lunged at them with makeshift weapons—one swinging a metal pipe, the other wielding a jagged piece of glass.
But the intruder on the left ducked beneath the pipe, grabbing the thug’s wrist and wrenching it in a vicious arc, making the pipe drop from his grasp.
With a powerful uppercut, the thug was sent sprawling backward.
The other intruder sidestepped the man with the broken glass, grabbing his arm and twisting it behind his back before slamming his head against the bedpost.
The thug groaned and slumped to the floor, unconscious.
In a matter of moments, the room was silent except for the groans of the defeated men.
Cathy, still curled on the bed, stared in disbelief.
The two mysterious men barely spared the fallen thugs another glance before rushing to her side.
"Can you walk?" one of them asked, his voice low and controlled.
She hesitated, then nodded weakly.
"Good. Let’s get you out of here."
They helped her up, shielding her from the chaos as they hurried out of the room.
Downstairs, the scene was even grimmer.
The large sitting area where Cathy had initially been dragged through was now a war zone.
Bodies of thugs littered the ground, some unconscious, others clearly dead.
The floor was streaked with blood, weapons discarded everywhere.
Cathy’s stomach churned.
"Don’t look," one of the rescuers murmured as they hurried past.
They moved swiftly, weaving through the wreckage of the hideout, avoiding fallen bodies and overturned furniture.
Cathy barely kept up, her heart pounding.
By the time they reached the entrance, Cathy noticed a car pulling up outside.
It was a sleek black car.
Inside sat Henry Smith!
Their eyes met.
Cathy’s breath caught in her throat.
His face twisted in anger, confusion, and something else—frustration.
He hadn’t expected this.
Obviously, Cathy had been rescued.
He wondered who was behind her rescue.
He hadn’t expected her to be rescued before he could carry out the twisted plan he had in store for her.
The rescuers didn’t stop.
They led Cathy toward a waiting vehicle that was parked a few feet from the hideout, its engine already humming.
"Get in," one of the men ordered.
Cathy silently got into the car, and it sped away.
- Writer
