» ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴀ ꜰᴏx || ꜰɪᴠᴇ ʜᴀʀɢʀᴇᴇᴠᴇꜱ

Part 03

∆Warning∆

I am not trying to be racist in this chapter. The last thing I want to do is offend anyone.

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The sound of an engine roaring to life signalled that Five was now alone.
Aside from the old waitress at the back room.

The 58 year old teen folded his white napkin in half and placed it in his blazer pocket, picking his white mug up to take another sip of his black coffee.
The front door creaked open again, the boy took a glance at the reflection of several men the silver bell was giving off.
He placed his cup down and hummed.

"Hm. That was fast." He paused.
"I thought I'd have more time before they'd found me."
A black man, decked out in black walked over to Five and pointed his black rifle to the boy's temple, gun already cocked.
His breathing was uneven, gun shaking slightly in his quivering hands.

"Okay. So let's all be professional about this, yeah? On your feet and come with us. They want to talk, and you offer a large bounty. Even if you're not alive." The man announced, shuffling closer.

Five sighed, eyes still fixated on his cup of unfinished coffee.
"I've got nothing to say."
The man started talking again, making Five wonder if he'll ever shut up.

"It doesn't have to go this way. You think I want to shoot a kid? Go home with that on my conscience?"
Five smirked.

"Well, I wouldn't worry about that." He turned his head to face the armed man.
"You won't be going home." He blinked with a dull butter knife in hand, and stabbed the black man in the neck from behind.
Causing him to pull the trigger on one of his fellow comrades.
The two dropping onto the tiled floor with heavy thuds.

That's when the bloodshed began.

The remaining men pointed their weapons towards the sport Five was last seen, by now four of the lights had been shattered - leaving the room in a half lit state.

"Hey assholes!" Five hollered from his position on the far end of the counter, lying sideways on it with his elbow propping him up.
5.56mm rounds took flight far too late, the boy already gone by the time the first bullet left the gun.

The trigger-happy men swivelled around side to side in an attempt to locate their target.
Five knocked from outside the window of the donut shop, giving a sarcastic smile as he waved - a hand stuffed in one of his pockets.

He blinked as the man wasted another round of bullets, piercing through their heavy breathing and shattering the clear glass.
The dim lights blinked on and off, Five reappearing and digging his butterknife into the same man's chest, right where his main artery would be, before space-jumping again.
He shouted and fell to his knees as blood spilled onto the tiled floor.

The soldiers were all clutching their rifles tightly, hearts beating out of their chest as they soaked in their own nervousness and fear.
Each breath constricted against the inside of their tactical vest.

Five appeared behind a thin table, black tie in hand.
He swung it around the man's neck, pulling it towards himself and tightening it.
The man grunted and gagged, teeth clenched as he tried to pull himself away - only making the noose smaller.

He fell limp just as another, older soldier sung his gun around - missing five completely and colliding with the dead man's nose with a satisfying crunch.

Five turned and quickly snatched the waiter's pencil that she left on the counter, shoving it up the man's crotch before proceeding to grab a plate and throwing at another's head.
The older screamed in agony, bending over in utter pain as white dots clouded his vision.
The swift teen removed the pencil and quickly stabbed the same man in the eye, crimson blood spurting out like water in a leaky balloon.
His screaming intensified.

The remaining two men groaned and picked themselves up, standing on either side of Five.
Several bullets dug themselves into the soldiers as the boy blinked out of the way at just the correct time.
The sound echoing through the bloody donut shop.

Five blinked once more, landing on his feet lightly like a cat.
The boy walked over and pulled his tie off the dead soldier's neck, placing it around his own - doing it up properly as he panted heavily.

Whoever said doing this much spacial-jumping wasn't tiring?

He strided over to a groaning man who tried to drag himself away from the mess, twisting his neck sharply with a loud crack.
The boy glanced around the room, which was a lot more colourful than it was before.
Shattered glass danced across the floor, bodies littered all over the place.
Someone would of thought that a little five year old had a tantrum because he didn't get his chocolate donut.

Five smiled to himself a little before looking over at a black machine - it's green screen glowing as a little red dot beeped in a continuous pattern.
The teen aligned a real knife that he spotted in one of the dead body's pockets with his inner right forearm - the sharp metal slicing a small straight line across it painfully.
He dug around, pulling out a little device with a wince.
Bringing the small blinking object to eye level.

As he exited the damaged donut shop Five dropped the tracking device onto the concrete next to a gutter, straightening his tie with a smile as he tread over to the car.

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