Rule 7 : Rage

CHAPTER 4: The Gruesome Culmination.

TW: Violence, Murder e.t.c

I changed into new clothes, swapping my old outfit for comfortable blue jeans and a dark hoodie that felt like a protective cover.

Carefully, I packed my old clothes, the new ones, and my trusty torch together, wrapping them securely in the mystery of the room. I looked around cautiously, thinking every shadow might hide a secret.

With a smooth motion, I sealed the enigmatic black bag and returned it to its hidden place. Amidst this moment, my stomach emitted an impatient growl, reminding me of the journey ahead.

I swung the door open, scanning the room meticulously to ensure no detail had escaped my scrutiny. Satisfied, I gently closed the door behind me, its reassuring click echoing in the stillness.

The key, cool to the touch, found its way back to its assigned place, marking the end of one part of my journey and preparing for the next.

Setting forth on an unknown destination, my heart swelled with anticipation and uncertainty. It was as though a baffling force propelled me onward, a force I couldn't fathom but dared not resist.

Every step demonstrated my persistent pursuit of the uncharted, carrying only a few things.

My vigilant eyes surveyed the area, searching for a safe place to keep my things. During this search, an unforgettable sight left an everlasting mark in my memory.

The bag I relied upon for my possessions unexpectedly became a burden, its once-efficient purpose now heavier and less useful.

In stark contrast, a single plastic bag, carried by the whims of the wind, performed an elegant ballet through the open expanse of air. Its fleeting presence remained seemingly untouched by the worries of the world.

With determination, I decided to claim that plastic bag, a symbol of both vulnerability and  toughness.

Yet, as I reached the very spot where it had danced, a wave of frustration threatened to drown me. The bag had vanished, leaving me with nothing but an empty wish.

After hours of walking, in search of sustenance and the comforting presence of fellow human beings, I felt a strong desire for safety and comfort.

I carried on further, even as the fatigue in my limbs threatened to betray my resolve. It was in this moment, as exhaustion clung to me like a shadow, that my eyes fell upon a parked car on the horizon, a signal of hope in my difficult journey. "What a new day!" I thought.

Approaching the vehicle, my eyes were drawn to a plastic bag that fate had seemingly placed in my path. With a weary yet determined hand, I gathered my modest belongings and placed them securely within the confines of the bag.

As I leaned against the strong frame of the car, an intense sigh of relief escaped my lips, a witness to the immense solace I found in that simple act. In that fleeting moment, the world seemed less intimidating, and my spirit was rekindled by the promise of respite ahead.

Continuing my journey, a pivotal moment of discouragement emerged. Yet, in that very instant, destiny intervened, redirecting my attention towards the right. There, amidst the urban landscape, a welcoming restaurant stood proudly, offering a  possibility of solace for my weary soul.

My senses stirred, for I was acutely aware of the incessant hunger that had afflicted me. It had been two long days since my last meal, and the chance  of nourishment was an urgent need.

A tantalizing aroma of many of culinary delights drifting from the restaurant's kitchen was impossible to resist. Around me, a bustling crowd gathered, drawn together by the irresistible pull of this culinary oasis.

I observed a woman emerging from the restaurant, cradling a baby in her arms as she hurried along. The infant rested tightly against her chest, with practiced ease, she settled herself and the baby within the car.

Without a moment's hesitation, I seized the opportunity to approach her, hoping she might offer assistance in my predicament. I gently tapped the side windshield twice.

She was on the verge of starting her car when she noticed my presence and lowered the side door window. With a soft, welcoming smile, she inquired, "Hello, how may I assist you?"

My heart swelled with emotion; her unexpected warm smile and willingness to pay attention moved me deeply. Stammering, I finally found the words to express my need, "Um, umm... I'm hungry, but I don't have any money."

As she scrutinized me from head to toe through her car's side window, a heavy cloud of sadness emclosed me. My heart sank, and hope decreased. However, a fleeting glimmer of optimism sparked when she turned away to retrieve something from her bag. My mind raced, desperately hoping it was food.

A shiver of dread raced down my spine as the sharp report of a gunshot split the air. Panic erupted like a contagious disease, sending people scrambling in all directions, desperately seeking refuge. The once-vibrant street now resembled a war zone, empty of life.

Another gunshot shattered the glass door of the nearby restaurant, threatening a man who had just stepped outside. It was a terrifying reminder of the lurking danger, a malevolent bullet from an unseen threat.

"The woman urgently gasped, 'They're closing in!'" Panic gripped me, rendering me breathless and unable to inquire further. Her face displayed a desperate mix of anticipation and fear. "Quick, get in!" she exclaimed with a terrifying urgency in her voice.

In a chaos, I rushed inside, my belongings were quickly hidden. The car roared to life with a deafening growl.

We hurtled down the irregular, unpaved street at a dangerous speed, sending us bouncing violently. The hectic drive was so swift that my heart pounded relentlessly in my chest, an unyielding reminder of the imminent, heart-pounding peril.

Amid this terrifying pursuit, our car endured the relentless barrage of gunfire, each bone-chilling shot striking fear into our hearts. Anxiety surged as she placed her trembling baby into my arms, the infant's  fragile cries merged with the surrounding dread.

The baby appeared to be quite young, with delicate features and a tiny frame, suggesting an age somewhere between three to four months gazed at me with innocent eyes, unaware of the impending danger. Another gunshot shattered the car's side mirror, and a torrent of tears flowed down her face, reflecting the terror that consumed us.

Driven by sheer determination, she desperately tried to escape the looming, huge chasers that lurked ominously behind us, eager to devour our fear.

She accelerated as if fleeing from the very jaws of death, but the relentless chasers were unyielding, gaining on us with each passing moment. Their incessant gunfire echoed through the air, each shot punctuating the horrific increase that awaited us.

In an instant, it happened—another deafening gunshot found its mark, and her head exploded in a horrifying spray of blood.

The crimson torrent flowed unchecked as the car careened wildly, the blinding headlights, screeching tires left me hopeless smashing into an indistinct, strong obstacle—whether a twisted tree, jagged rock, or menacing transformer, I could not discern.

My head slammed against the side window, shattering it in a stark display, my own fear now  joining the macabre tableau of terror.

My ears were swamped with haunting echoes and the weak, mournful cries of the baby. Blood oozed from the gash on my head, creating a chilling, crimson scene on the glass before me.

My vision blurred, and my bloodshot eyes closed against my will. I found myself in a state of bewildering anticipation, unsure whether this marked a cruel twist in my struggle for survival or the gruesome, enigmatic culmination of my journey.