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Vera spat out blood from the series of punches that the armed man who took her to the empty room upstairs had inflicted on her. She was strapped to the wooden chair, hands zip-tied behind her back. Through a window by the west side of the building, she saw the setting sun and a faint grin lined a corner of her mouth.
“If you hit me again, I will kill you,” she said to her captor.
He laughed at her silliness as he remembered a scene from the TV show Arrow where the lead character, Oliver Queen said the same words to his captor. He dismissed the thought of the slightest possibility that she would do exactly as she’d threatened and hit her again.
Vera smirked and revealed her hands, free from the ties that bound them.
“What the…?” he mumbled, reaching for the gun tucked in his trousers.
She did a swift backflip that kicked the gun out of his hold. He pulled out a switchblade and came at her as she raised the chair she strapped into with a foot. A second later, she caught it in her right hand and deflected his attacks with it. Vera trapped his hand between the legs of the chair and wedge beneath it then twisted hard until he groaned and dropped the blade. She caught it with her left hand before it reached the floor and then slashed the vein at the back of his foot. He wailed, bleeding. Before he would settle with the pain, Vera swiveled him around so his back would face her. She pulled him to herself and wrapped her hands around his head.
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“I told you what I would do if you hit me again.”
He struggled, slapping against her arm before she snapped his neck effortlessly.
The guard outside heard the grunts and barged in to find Vera standing over the corpse of her captor. He angrily fired twice, both of which she was fast enough to dodge. She rolled over to the dead guy’s blade, picked it up, and hurled it precisely into her attacker’s left eye.
Meanwhile, the others downstairs had heard the gunshots. The leader sensed that something was wrong so he sent a couple of guys to go check it out as he put the hoods back on his captives’ heads.
Vera hid behind the door, armed with the blade that took down her previous opponent. She waited for the next person to come rushing in and as soon as he did, she stabbed him multiple times in the stomach. While she was still at that, two more popped up outside the room and immediately opened fire at her. She used the stabbed guy as a shield so his now limp body absorbed the shots. She took his pistol out of the holster under his armpit and fired precisely one bullet into the head of each attacker. They dropped dead.
Like lightning, she sprinted out to the balcony where she was pelted with bullets. Vera willed herself in the air and with each sideways twist, a bullet was dodged. She landed on her feet and slid along the hand railing, shooting down whoever was in her eye line.
In no time, the shooters were all down, dead. She squeezed a round at the giant leader but the gun clicked empty. She was out. Screw it! Vera tossed the pistol away and leaped off the balcony. She landed on his shoulders with both her knees as he seized her by the neck. Choking, she struck his already broken nose with her elbow over and over until he could no longer endure the pain. He left her neck and tried to feel his nose and that was the opportunity she needed. Vera wrapped her legs around his neck and strategically flung herself to the ground. The force from the fling threw him carelessly to a distance where he fell, bashing his bald head into the floor.
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“You,” he grunted at his pain as she gallantly approached him. She spoke no word lest Steve and Nicole recognised her voice. It was good enough that they were blindfolded again.
Vera lunged at him as he attempted to stand. Methodically, she seized him around the throat and staring into those wicked eyes, she jabbed her thumb into the cricoid cartilage of his lower larynx. His throat was immediately filled with blood which began to choke him. Drained of strength, his arms flailed as he tried to reach for her face. She quietly, without remorse or emotion, watched him gradually drown in his own blood. He was struggling to breathe, fighting to keep his soul from exiting his body. Blood sprouted out of his mouth and his eyes slowly rolled up into their sockets.
Vera dropped his dead body and turned to the others who had no idea who had caused all that turmoil. They’d heard everything but saw nothing.
“OCPD!” The police barged in, pointing their guns and flashlights ahead of them.
Vera was already gone by now.
“Help, please help us!” Nicole and the senator’s wife exclaimed.
The moment they were freed, Steve dashed upstairs shouting Vera’s name. He jumped over the bodies of the assaulters scattered around the balcony and found the empty room where she was laying on the ground beside her victims. He quickly knelt beside her and combed his fingers through her hair as she looked like someone who was just regaining consciousness.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly.
“I guess so.” She groaned as he helped her up, “what happened?” she asked, feigning ignorance.
“I don’t know.” He embraced her tightly, “I’m just glad you’re safe.”
She rested her chin on his shoulder and smirked.
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Their abductor had every right to be angry at the government and those in power but killing innocents just to prove a point wasn’t the best way to go about it. He deserved what he got. Maybe she would continue what he started but with a more subtle approach. Yes, she would find a better way to make the city a better place for the common man. The giant was right about one thing, those in power needed to know what it felt like to be afraid. They hadn’t felt real fear, at least not yet anyway, but they would. They would fear, and she would make sure of that. They would learn to sleep with an eye open for no matter how long the day might seem, the sun would always set, giving way to absolute darkness and the shadow creatures that lurked within.
All she needed now was a mask.
Story by Samuel Francis
