Kill The Innocent

Chapter Eight

These violent delights have violent ends. And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, which, as they kiss, consume.

William Shakespeare

***

Declan fell asleep very fast. I didn't expect much less from him. I tried to stay entertained with the TV for as long as I could but I got bored after a few hours. Slowly, I slipped from his grip and got out of bed.

I went into the closet and changed my clothes into a pair of shorts and a tank top, then I left the room. "4696" I whispered to myself so I remember how to get back into my room.

Once I got into the hallway I realized that I have no idea where this training room is that I'd heard about. So I ended up wandering around the mansion until I came across a man with a shotgun.

"I need to know where the training room is," I said, keeping my expression low. I'd never known who I was encountering and if I revealed too much about myself what they could do with that information.

"Who's asking." He said the question like a statement.

"Valerie." I told him. "I'm a uh...friend of Declan's." I found myself hesitating on the word friend. I didn't like the way the word sounded in my mouth.

"Valerie?" He said all seven letters of my name with pure disgust. "How do I know you're not lying? That you didn't sneak in through a window or some shit."

"If you have to question whether somebody in the house you're supposed to be protecting snuck into a window, maybe you should be doing your job better." I spat at him. "Now would you be helpful for once and tell me where the training room is?"

I watched as he looked me up and down, contemplating what to do. He knows better than anybody that if he makes the wrong move he'll have to deal with the consequence of Declan Love's anger. Which may lead to death. "I don't think I can do that." He said.

I watched as he came at me with both his hands and I caught them. Holding his wrists with as much force as he's giving. Keeping my hold, I drop my right arm and elbow him in the nose. His head knocks back and a stream of red falls to his lip. While he's still registering the nosebleed, I kick his legs out from under him and he's on the ground in an instant.

I pull the gun from around his body that I'm surprised he didn't use first and throw it across the room. "Don't fucking touch me." I threaten, with my knee on his chest. "I will ask you for the last time. Where the fuck is the training room."

"I-It's in the basement." He stuttered. "Behind the main staircase is a door that leads to a set of stairs. But I should warn you-"

"I've heard enough." I say, standing and leaving the man on the ground. "Declan will be hearing about this." And then I leave him.

The stairs that lead down to the training room are probably the oldest-looking thing in this house. They're steep and rickety, but not far. The room is full, men occupy most of the basement. Fighting, running, punching, or shooting. It looks as though it's the middle of the day and not three in the morning.

The room itself is massive. Spreading under what looks to be the entirety of Declan's large mansion. It has matted floors and reminds me somewhat of a high school wrestling mat room. Except with a gun range on one side.

Punching bags hang from the ceilings, treadmills line the walls, a rack of weights is set up in one corner, and all kinds of workout equipment fill the empty spaces in the rooms.

In one space, there's what looks like a smaller version of a fighting arena, men hit each other and aim prop guns, while other men in suits stand and watch, giving them pointers on what to do next time. The suited men hold some authority. They stand with their arms crossed and pistols on their waist and analyze the fighting men in great detail. They seem to notice everything. Every punch, every kick, every dodge. They watch, they criticize, they compliment, they teach.