Fallen For Revenge

Chapter 1: Train Murder.

Chapter 1. Train Murder.

*Gunshots fire wildly as everyone inside the train takes cover*

“¡Ey! Get your ass to the ground, now!” a voice boomed," his thick Mexican accent cutting through the panic. He fired wildly, bullets ricocheting off the walls and windows.

“You don’ wanna get hurt, huh? Then stay where you are!” he said.

The passengers ducked lower, trying to avoid the spray of glass and bullets. His men stormed down the aisle, rifles spitting fire as they moved through the still train, shooting without mercy.

“Ay, mira, mira!” one gunman yelled, grabbing a woman by the arm. “You tryin’ to be a hero or what? Stay down, cabrona!”

One of the gang men lowered his gun, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd. He spotted his target, a man shaking with fear. With a smug grin, he signalled to his men with his head.

“Ese,” he said with a nod, his voice cold. “That’s the puppy, right there. Go on, grab him.” he ordered.

Two henchmen yanked the trembling man from his seat, dragging him through the train as other passengers avoided eye contact with the thugs.

A bigger thug with a menacing face void of cheer, appeared amidst the tensed atmosphere in the train. He had tattoos all over his neck, and his hands bore marks of past wars which only darkened his humanity.

He strolled up to him, slow and deliberate, the soles of his boots echoing in the sudden quiet. He crouched in front of the trembling man, a cruel smirk creeping on his lips.

“¿Qué pasó, eh? You thought you could hide from us?” he sneered, his voice low and dangerous. “Bad move, compa. Real bad move. You got our boss really mad. Now he wants you” he said, tapping the edge of his gun on the man's head.

Suddenly, a woman yanked up from the seats to defend the man. She jumped on the huge thug, shaking frantically in an attempt to fight back.

“¡Quitate de encima! Get the hell off me!”, the huge thug groaned as he threw her off him in frustration.

Before she could regain her stance and recoil back at him, he shot her in the chest.

Everywhere became silent. The entire tensed passengers froze for a few seconds, taking in the realization that these men meant business, and they were going to take down anyone who acted stupid.

“¡Amor!”, The man who was on his knees cried out in agony as tears broke out of his eyes, trickling down his dirt-stained cheeks.

“Ahh! That's your wife, huh?”, he clicked his tongue with zero remorse in his expression, “She didn't wanna stay down papa. Not to worry compa, you're gonna join her soon.” the thug said with fake sympathy.

“Let's take him to Vincent.” one of the henchmen said to the thug, who silently nodded in agreement, his cruel eyes scanning the trembling passengers for the last time.

“Get up puppy.” they yanked the sobbing man up to his feet as he attempted to reach out to his bleeding wife, but they shoved him forward, leading him outside the train.

Outside the train were two black jeeps, parked by the side of the railway. Six men in black suits, all holding guns, surrounded the jeeps, standing on alert, their eyes scanning the thick bushes which surrounded them in case anything went wrong.

The henchmen dragged the man towards the car and one of them slapped the back of his head, “ Get your damn knees on the ground, ahora mismo!"

He obeyed immediately as he fell to his knees in front of one of the jeeps. He knew he had no choice. These men were going to kill him if he showed any resistance.

The back door to one of the jeeps opened, revealing a six-foot-tall white-looking man with well-arranged slicked-back black hair resting on his head.

He had a well-groomed beard which added to his rugged appeal, accentuating his chiseled jawline. His high-quality tailored black suit hugged his lean frame, emphasizing his muscular build.

“Vincent Escobar!” the trembling man on his knees said, as he lifted his head with dread in his eyes.

Vincent stood in front of him with a fierce and stern glare, which could melt even the bravest of men. His eyes were as cold as steel as he gazed down on his victim.

“Where are the coordinates to the treasure?” Vincent's voice came out cold and domineering, sending chills down his victims’ spine.

“I have the papers in my bag. Here, you can take it. Just let me go, I beg you.” the man begged with everything in him.

Vincent snapped his fingers. As if his men read his mind, they stormed to the man and violently stripped his bag off his shoulders, searching frantically until they found a particular file that seemed different from the other books in his bag.

“Here it is boss”, the henchman said, handing over the file to Vincent, who collected it, barely glancing at it as his cold gaze remained fixed on his kneeling victim.

“Bad, pa. Bad. This is not what I am looking for,” Vincent sneered viciously, “Where the hell are the documents which hold the location of the treasures?” he hissed at him.

“And why would I tell you?” the kneeling man asked, his face showing a new emotion—boldness. “You are a cruel man. You and the entire Escobar legacy, you will all be exposed for all your illicit deeds, and one day bow before the law.”

Vincent laughed silently. He stretched out his right hand and a guard placed a gun in it. He looked at it for a few seconds, his eyes showing nothing but cold death as he pointed the barrel of the gun against the man's forehead,

“The Escobar name is greater than any law.”

Vincent pulled the trigger, releasing the bullet straight into the man's skull as the sound of the shot echoed into the thick bushes surrounding them.

He dropped to the ground with a thud, blood oozing out of the crater the bullet made through his skull.

“Father!” A feminine voice screamed in terror from inside the lifeless train which stood on its rails, in the middle of nowhere.

Vincent's head snapped up as his eyes scanned across the broken glasses of the train till he spotted a fine lady.

Her eyes were wide in shock, and she had her hands clamped tightly against her mouth in an attempt to muffle her scream.

“Get her!” Vincent ordered, pointing at the train.

“Aye! Let's go, boys.” The thugs wasted no time as they rushed back into the train.

The young lady tried to outrun the men who chased after her, but even if she could, there was no way she was going to escape the train without getting caught.

Other passengers who saw the chase knew best to stay out of the way as the thugs chased down the lady across the train.

In desperation, she ran into the restroom and locked herself inside, slamming her back against the door in attempt to hold it from ever opening again. Her chest heaved frantically, as she recollected the scenario that just happened before her very eyes.

“Open up, muchacha, Or I'll shoot you. ¿Entender?”, the men screamed as they banged on the door, threatening to slam it open.

“¡Rómpelo! Get her out of there!”

One of the heavier henchmen took a step back and ran into the door with his boots. The wooden door splintered open with great force, crashing into the restroom area like an explosion.

The young lady screamed as Vincent’s men grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out, ignoring her frantic struggles as they stormed out of the train. No one dared stand in their way.

“Let me go, please!”, The lady screamed as she struggled wildly, but they were too strong for her. She was taken straight to Vincent's feet and tossed on the ground beside her fathers’ lifeless body.

Everywhere became still and quiet, except for the heavy thumping of her heart as she crouched at the feet of the devil's masterpiece.

She lifted up her eyes to meet his cold eyes staring down at her, watching her with his hands tucked in his pockets like he did not just kill someone.

Vincent carefully lowered himself to her, leveling his gaze to hers. “What is your name?”, he asked, his voice cold and deadly, yet calm, and trailing off dominance even to the surrounding atmosphere.

She ignored his question as she gazed at her father's body. His blood was still fresh.

It was barely an hour ago when he told her he loved her with everything. It was barely an hour ago when her mother made fun of her hair and told her how messy she looked. Now, they all lay in the pool of their own blood, all for a meaningless piece of document.

“Do you not hear me?” Vincent's voice cut through the air, jerking her out of her thoughts and gutting anger. “What is your name?”

She hesitated a bit before replying, “Anna. My name is Anna”, she said with no trace of fear in her. At this moment she cared less of what would happen to her. She already lost her world in one sitting.

“Anna Voss? Interesting.” He leaned closer so that his face was directly in front of her. “You look pretty. I like pretty women.”

“f**k you!” Anna hissed at him, her eyes blazing hatred. Without warning, she spat at him, sending a thick gulp of saliva and mucus splattering on his well chiseled face.

“¡Estúpido! How dare y…” One of the henchmen attempted to hit her with the back of his gun, but Vincent held out his hand, stopping him on time.

“Let her be!” He wiped his face with a handkerchief, his expression unreadable.

“Take her into the car.” He said, standing up, “She's mine now.” Vincent said with his gaze as hard as his cold menacing heart.

As the men dragged her to the waiting vehicle, Vincent's gaze remained fixed on her, “You'll make a fine pet, Anna”