30| The Backalley Shootings

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Guys, I have worked very hard on this chapter. It is short and as promised, action-filled!

Warning: This chapter (of course) portrays graphic violence that might be unsuitable for some readers. If you're a sensitive person, please consult me before reading.

Thank you! Enjoy the chapter :)

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Dedicated to:@dalinamootin

Thank you for making it so far into the story! I hope that you are enjoying it :D




"Hell is empty and all the devils are here."

~ William Shakespeare




Carlton's POV

A deep roar of the engine resounded in my ears as the enemy's car pulled up into the alleyway. We remained hidden but they must've sensed this, so they ceased a few metres away.

The silence of the night was deadly, the winds carried an aura of fear, and sometimes excitement, and then back to fear.

Faint ruffling was heard in a distance. I positioned myself more tactically. My muscles tightened, fingers curving around my rifle.

I was positioned a little furthur away, where I was safer than my guards.

I could only hear my breathing now, muffled by the bandana I wore on my mouth. It was the only way I could hide my identity, except exchanging blazers with my bodyguard for furthur security.

Cutting through the air, a shrill, zipping sound of a bullet was suddenly heard.

One of my guards, who was hiding behind the garbage bin, screamed in agony. A few seconds later, his lifeless body fell on the ground.

Slack-jawed, I followed the direction of the bullet. It came from the second floor of the building beside us.

My other guards began to panick, trying to escape whoever was firing from an unknown location.

Under the faint moon light, I squinted, and then I spotted the sniper. Aiming my rifle into the sky, I fired at the man who had sniped my comrade. He fell out of the window, colliding on the ground.

The shower of bullets triggered the enemies and they jumped out of their positions, running towards us with madness in their eyes.

I gasped.

The atmosphere's silence was immediately taken over by the sounds of bullets, zipping, hitting cars, hitting walls, hitting people.

I ran forward, rifle in hand. I needed to help them.

Someone began shooting in my direction. It was too dark to see so I glided across the ground and took cover behind our SUV.

The thump-thump-thump of bullets hitting the car's metallic surface reminded me of the traquil rain drops on car shields, on a cold monsoon morning. But this time, every drop threatened to take my life.

Meanwhile, the gunshots in the background just wouldn't stop.

There were footsteps approaching the car where I was hidden. Immediately, I realised the long-range rifle was of no use. I threw it away.

A man approached me from behind the car. An enemy. I jumped on him. He did not see that coming. Twisting his armed hand away from me, I turned it behind his back, breaking a few bones in the process.

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