I was not afraid of death, but the man breathing over my head.
Ready to take my soul.
Demolish me. And then devour me.
As if he hadn't done it already.
I didn't know how I was still breathing, or why was I even alive. He should plung this knife into my chest and kill me too. Cause I couldn't watch it. How could I when a man was squirming on the floor in his own blood.
Everything around me was shrinking, suffocating me in the violence.
My breath caught in my throat as I looked disbelievingly Judas-calm, collected, eerily unbothered by the pool of blood now seeping across the floor. His fingers resumed their idle robotical drumming against my waist.
And with every tap, I'd panic a little more.
Carlo's guttural groans filled the suffocating silence, but Judas paid him no mind. His hand, now clean of blood, traced slow, almost affectionate circles on my side. The warmth of his touch burned through the cold shock freezing my limbs and I couldn't move.
"Strange, isn't it?" His voice was low as he kissed the shell of my ear and I shut my eyes as tears burned. "How quickly things can change. One moment, you're laughing. The next..." He glanced at Carlo through his shades, now slumped and convulsing, his remaining eye wide with pain and terror. "You lose an eye. Life's cruel that way."
One could hear amusement. And the other men around stiffened. Eyes widened and mouths opened.
And I could see the realisation seeping into their bodies as Judas casually took off his glasses with other hand and threw them over his shoulder.
Carlo's gurgling breaths were loud now, desperate even.
"A little bird once told me," Judas sighed slowly walking forwards without letting me go as I stumbled into his chest with every step, "that if you want something done right, you must do it yourself." He slid the knife from the table again, flipping it in his hand like it was an extension of his will. And maybe it was. Cause the blade looked deadlier in his hands than on the table. "Too bad Carlo didn't get the memo."
A lazy smile spread slowly across his face, the kind that never reached his eyes. "An eye for an eye? Pity. I always preferred a fucking head for a thoughtless tongue."
He let go of me and I caught the edge of the table pressing my palm against my mouth as bile rose up.
"You... you can... see?"
One of the men muttered. Terrified. Scared and even frightened to the point of having an anxiety attack.
My insides coiled and I took a trembling breath as Judas's hand snaked to the back of Carlo's head, gripping his hair.
There was a sickening sound as the blade slid cleanly across his throat. Blood sprayed out in an arc, coating the chair, the table, and the once pristine floor. Carlo's body spasmed violently, choking on the blood flooding his throat.
Eye wide.
The red splatter hit my skin, warm and sticky. My chest heaved, bile rising in my throat again, but Judas was already standing up.
The front of his suit and his once clean face covered with blood, grinning as he wiped the blood off his check with his thumb before grabbing my wrist and pulling me to him.
"No!" I gasped and tried to fight him as he quickly turned me around pressing my back against his chest and grabbed my throat, seizing my breath and trapping me.
"Open your eyes, ptichka." His grip tightened as he turned my face toward the horror. "Look at him. Don't flinch."
I did as he commanded. It was like staring into a nightmare, watching life leave Carlo's body, his face a mask of agony. My heart thundered in my ears, but I couldn't look away.
My chest heaved up and down.
"Good girl." Judas's voice was soft like he was teaching me some twisted lesson. "Never turn away from death. It's just another part of life, after all. One moment you're on top of the world, the next..." He pressed his lips against my ear again. "You're bleeding out, regretting every breath you took for granted, right?"
He wiped the knife clean, slow and deliberate, eyes cold as they swept over the men. Silent. Frozen. Color drained from their faces.
Like me.
Tears slipped down my cheeks.
Licking my skin.
Scorching it.
The pain crawled deeper, burning through my chest.
No sound.
Only fear, sinking its claws in.
I stood there, bleeding in silence.
The devil sighed, secured his arm around my waist once again. "What do they say, Vahiue, 'If you sit by the river long enough, you'll watch the bodies of your enemies float by.'" I shit my eyes as his blade tapped the side of my waist before he let go of me and I fell on my knees. "Except I'm not the waiting type. I prefer a more... proactive approach."
He stalked around the table.
"Tell me, little bird," he murmured, fingers tracing the curve of the blade, smearing the blood he'd forgotten to clean. "Do you feel safer now?"
I swallowed thickly, words failing me. He didn't wait for an answer, knowing all too well the power he held. "I told you. No one can touch what's mine."
The other men quickly recovered from shock and suddenly one of them pulled out a gun. My eyes widened as he pointed the gun at Judas. "You played us, bastard," he spat as other also pulled out their guns. "Fooled us with your fucking blindness!"
A chorus of guns clicked into readiness. My breath hitched, and before I could even process what was happening, five men stood with weapons pointed directly at Judas.
My body seized with panic, every nerve alight with terror, but Judas... he laughed. A low, deranged sound that bubbled up from deep in his chest, sending a sickening chill down my spine. His head tilted slightly, that eerie grin never leaving his lips. And pale eyes shone brighter as the sight of guns amused him.
"Judas..." it was Veronica's soft voice as she sighed and stood beside him. "You're not thinking of killing them, are you?"
My breath hitched a sa devilish smile curved his lips. "Of course, I am. They wanted to have a taste of my little bird."
I swallowed hard.
Before anyone could react, his hand flexed around the blade as his fingers curled with an almost sensual anticipation. "It's funny, isn't it?" he mused, taking a step forward. "People think that because they have a gun, they have power." He shrugged, his smile widening. "Come on now, Faruk. Because we both know, your dick is the only things smaller than your fucking courage."
I screamed.
Without warning, the first shot fired. The sharp crack of a bullet pierced the air, and my heart leapt into my throat. I thought the bullet rushed past me and I was ready to find his body on the ground.
But Judas... he moved like smoke. Before I could even blink, he was gone from my side, a blur of black and silver as he dodged to the left. The knife in his hand flashed and Faruk's wrist exploded in a fountain of blood.
I shrieked as I scrambled on the arse and hands hiding behind the chair.
What-what was happpening?
I couldn't process.
This was the first time I had heard gun fire. And first time watching this much blood.
The man screamed, dropping his weapon as Judas twisted the knife deeper into the flesh. I sneeked behind the chair and looked through the gap.
Visibly flinched at his night.
His smile was savage now, his eyes dark with something primal, something monstrous. He yanked the blade free, the sound wet and sickening, before spinning on his heel and plunging the knife into the throat of another man who'd barely managed to raise his gun.
More gunfire erupted. The world became a cacophony of violence, but Judas-he was dancing. That's what it looked like. A bloody, brutal dance. He moved with the grace of a predator, every step measured, every strike lethal. His blade flashed again, cutting through muscle and bone with sickening ease.
I didn't know if it should be praised or feared.
Blood sprayed across the room, coating the walls, the floor, my skin.
I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. My vision tunneled, my stomach churning as bile rose in my throat. The metallic stench of blood filled my senses, overwhelming, suffocating.
And then I felt it-a solid body pressing against mine, pushing me back, away from the chaos. I stumbled, barely catching myself as I was shoved behind a broad, familiar figure.
Kyle.
His voice was low, steady, despite the madness unfolding in front of us. "Stay behind me."
I tried to speak, tried to find words, but all that came out was a strangled gasp. My hands shook violently, my legs threatening to give out beneath me. But Kyle didn't let me collapse. He was a wall between me and the horror, his body shielding me from the worst of it. But I could still see everything.
Judas's knife slammed into the chest of another man, and he twisted it with a gleeful snarl, relishing the way the man's body jerked and convulsed. The sickening crunch of bones and him killing them mercilessly.
"You'll die!"
"Is this it?" Judas laughed, his voice a dark melody, mocking. "This is the best you can do? Five little lambs with their shiny guns, thinking they could fucking take me down? I expected more, honestly."
One of the remaining men fired wildly, bit the monster in front of him moved faster than the bullet, ducking low before springing up and slashing across the man's gut. The blade tore through flesh and muscle like butter, and the man screamed, clutching his stomach as his insides spilled out onto the floor.
I pressed my palms against my ears and shook my head.
No, no, no. Please. Stop. Stop it!
But I could still hear his voice followed by a loud laugh. "Come on! At least make me work for it!"
The last two men faltered, their fear palpable. One tried to back away, his gun trembling in his hands, but Judas lunged forward, grabbing the man by the throat. He lifted him effortlessly, his fingers digging into the man's flesh as he squeezed, the man's eyes bulging with terror.
"There's a saying," Judas whispered, his voice soft but filled with malice. "The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots..." His grip tightened. "Or in this case, fuckers."
And he snapped the man's neck. The body dropped to the floor like a sack of meat, lifeless, broken.
The last man stood frozen, his eyes darting wildly between Judas and the door, as if trying to calculate his chances of escape. Judas grinned, his teeth gleaming like a predator scenting blood.
"Run," Judas taunted, his voice a sing-song mockery. "Run. Let's see how far you can get."
The man turned to bolt, but Judas was faster. His knife flew through the air with deadly precision, embedding itself in the man's back with a wet thud. I gasped pressing my pal against my mouth.
The man crashed to the ground, writhing in agony as Judas sauntered over, leisurely, like he was enjoying a pleasant stroll.
This man... was beyond everything.
He yanked the knife free with a sickening squelch, watching as the man gasped for breath, blood pooling around him. Judas crouched down, his face inches from the dying man's.
"Don't worry," Judas whispered, almost tenderly. "It'll all be over soon."
And then, with one swift motion, he slit the man's throat.
Blood soaked the floor.
He turned to me then, his eyes meeting mine over Kyle's broad shoulder. A slow, twisted smile spread across his face, and he tilted his head ever so slightly.
"Are you still nauseous, little bird?" His voice was soft, almost teasing. "Or have I convinced you that there's no one's who can touch you besides me?"
******