Charade Games | Completed

Chapter 44: Most Important

A/N: Chapter 44! I was actually pretty excited writing this, and also it's pretty fast pace (but long) and in tribute of Serafina, here she is!

Hope you have a happy reading!
           

1987 Milan, Italy

I held my breath.

Thinking a bullet was going to pierce through my chest, or my brain for that matter.

I was waiting, though I wasn't prepared for it.

For that familiar sound to spark in the air as my bones would be snapped by an intruding bullet.

Or that the brink of my chest would now hold a hole inside its cavity.

But instead, the entire room was masked in black.

When I opened my eyes, the entire room remained in the black surface as not a trace of light was left.
Turning my head rapidly, I couldn't see further then the inches in front of me.

Loud rustles and engagement of fighting was breaking the sound of the air.

Slight screams and an anguish cry of pain resounded in my ears.

But I didn't have time.

Seizing the black pistol still pointing at me, I felt the man's grip as I pointed it upwards.

His body and stance pushed against me as I tried to tear the pistol out of his hands.
My shoulders knocking into his chest while his large frame tried to tackle me over.

But I held my footing.

His cling to it was tight. What's more, I could feel his body weight pushing down as I tried to wrangle his hand.

Jabbing underneath his chest, I used the slight advantage of being smaller than his size.

Diving for a clean cut against his chest, I knocked my knee into the space of his center ribs.

Immediately, I got a reaction from him. His body leaned forward and a cry of pain escalated from his crusted lips.
Trying to grip his footing, I could make out the sway of his body as he released the pistol involuntarily.

Seizing the chance, the pistol fell into my hands as I locked my finger against the trigger. When he heard the same metal loader, he ran.

His frame knocking against a glass table as he made his way towards the nearest exit he could find.

I didn't let him, pursuing him without a second of hesitance—I continued to fire the pistol.

A bullet streaked across a wooden counter as it flared at the sides. The sound allowed for him to raise his arm against his head in defense.

Firing another consecutive bullet, it hit against a glass jug before thinning the side of leg. He stuttered in his movement and I fired the third bullet.

But when I was closed to firing the fourth, an array of bullets now hit against the side of the table nearest to me. However, I decided to take a chance.

We couldn't let him get away.

This was our last chance.

So I ran for it. Hearing the groan of pain and blunder of breaths, I grappled onto the back of his sides as I knocked the man forward.

I couldn't see him.

But my weight and the jab against his ribs was enough to keep him subdued for a while.