He is a force to be reckoned with. A lift of his finger & people are beheaded in seconds. A word from him & the streets of NY are bathed in blood. Any evil deed, you name it & he has done it. Vicious, nefarious, brutal & downright cruel. Majestic in...
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(If I don't see 50 votes & 500 reads, I won't update. You all can stay in suspense, and keep waiting for the next part)
Anastasia's POV:~
As I see the man advancing towards me, my heart races, and I quickly get up, grabbing the laptop and stealthily sliding the USB inside my hoodie.
He takes my left elbow in a harsh grip, yanking me closer, and I wince. “Give me the laptop,” he growls, forwarding his arm to snatch it from me.
Despite the pain he is causing me, I hold the laptop close to my chest with my right hand and shake my head defiantly.
“You little!” He curses in his thick voice, tightening his grip on my arm, and presses the gun to my forehead, looking me dead in the eyes. A chill runs down my spine in fear of what is to come. “Last chance. Give me that, or I shoot your head, puttana.”
(whore.)
What do I do? He does not look like he is bluffing.
“1,” he pushes the barrel harder against my skin, and I press my lips in a thin line, contemplating my options. “2,”
As he begins the countdown, panic sets in.
I do not have any weapons on me. What do I even hit him with?
My eyes move around frantically. The chair? No, it is too far away. He will catch me before I can reach it.
“3. Bye, bitch."
I need something closer, and I need it now.
My eyes fall on the laptop.
No. I will lose half the data.
But you do not have anything else. Do you? Besides, the drive will still contain the other half.
Just when he is about to pull the trigger, I grab the laptop and smash it on his head hard. The pieces go flying around us, and the man stumbles back on his feet, holding his injured head. There is blood everywhere—on his clothes, on mine, on the floor.
My hands shake with the impact. I hit someone. To the point that he is bleeding. My wide orbs are stuck to the horrifying scene before me when I watch the other two men coming in my direction, their arms drawn.
Before thinking about what I am doing, I seize hold of the injured man’s gun and push him towards the window. He eyes me in a surprised way, and the two men also pause. I raise my hands, holding the gun at them. My fingers shake uncontrollably around the weapon, but I do not let my inexperience show. “Let me go.” My voice comes out cracked, so I gulp and try again. “Let me go, or I will shoot.”
The two men just smirk, and one of them mocks me by saying, “That is not a toy. Have you even held it before?”
I have not. But they do not need to know that.
They continue their stalking, slowly coming closer. Not having any other option, I move the gun upwards, close my eyes, and fire a warning shot at the ceiling, hoping to buy myself some time. My whole body trembles with the amount of force it takes me to shoot, and when I open my eyes again, all three men have halted where they were standing.
