Dagger Time

The gunshot echoed in the room.

Marcus's eyes darted to Shadow, who stood by his side, still disguised as the Librarian. A smoking hole now in it's forehead it slumped down onto the ground.

Marcus's breath caught in his throat, horror paralyzing him.

Dagger stood in the doorway, holding a sleek firearm, a revolver. His masked face conveyed little but Marcus could feel the satisfaction and glee oozing off of him.

Before Marcus could react, a knife flew through the air, embedding itself in his leg. Pain shot up his body, and he screamed, collapsing into a nearby chair. His cane clattered to the floor, the echo almost mocking.

"ARGH!" Marcus spat through gritted teeth. His hands clutched the knife's hilt as blood seeped through his fingers.

Dagger stepped closer, his boots thudding on the floor. The roombas busily cleaned around them, oblivious to the chaos.

"What a joke," Dagger sneered, glancing at the roombas and then back to Shadow's body. "You had all that time to prepare and you set up cleaning bots? I even bought this rinky dinky revolver to get back at you and you hardly put up a fight."

Somewhere in the back of his mind past the pain Marcus realized Dagger thought the disguised Shadow was the librarian, that was the only reason he was alive right now. Marcus glared, pain and rage mingling in his eyes.

"Who are you?" Dagger demanded, his voice cold and sharp. "Do you serve the Librarian?"

Marcus's mind raced. His carefully constructed world was crumbling. He needed to think, to survive.

Marcus tried to steady his breathing. The pain from the knife was immense, but he couldn't afford to show weakness.

Dagger's eyes narrowed, waiting for an answer.

"I... serve no one," Marcus managed to choke out between gasps of pain. "The Librarian? He's just a name. A title. A facade."

Dagger tilted his head, considering Marcus's words.

"Then who are you?" Dagger asked, his voice low and dangerous. "And where is the rat?"

"Who am I?" Marcus responded, bitterness seeping into his voice. "A man who was promised the world and given nothing but chains. A man who has died once and now, cursed by God, lives again in this frail body!"

The metallic clang of Shadow's body hitting the floor was still echoing in Marcus's ears when Dagger's boot connected with his chest, sending fresh waves of pain through his already aching body. Marcus gasped, struggling to catch his breath as he clutched at the knife in his leg.

Dagger leaned in close, his masked face inches from Marcus's own. "Does that jog your memory?" he sneered, twisting the knife in Marcus's leg. Marcus howled in agony, his vision blurring from the unbearable pain.

"I have no allegiance!" Marcus spat, his voice strained.

Dagger huffed out a laugh. "Sure you don't. I find that hard to believe, especially since you seem to be quite at home here in the Librarian's den."

Dagger yanked the knife out of Marcus's leg in one quick, brutal motion. Blood spurted from the wound, and Marcus cried out, clutching his leg to stem the flow. "Tell me, who are you really working for, and where is the rat?" Dagger interrogated, bringing the knife close to Marcus's face, teasing the blade against his cheek.

Marcus summoned what strength he had left. "I'm only working to survive," he ground out through gritted teeth. "I'm the only one who knows who the rat is, you need me."

Dagger cocked his head, using the blade to trace a line down Marcus's face, applying just enough pressure to draw blood. "You seem awfully certain about that," he mused, seemingly delighted by Marcus's visible discomfort.

Marcus trembled with suppressed rage and pain, his mind searching for any angle, any advantage. "It's the truth," he snarled, struggling against Dagger's overwhelming presence.

Dagger's eyes gleamed with cruel amusement. "And yet, here you are, spouting nonsense about God's curses and second chances. Do you expect me to believe a word of it?"

With sudden viciousness, Dagger plunged the knife into Marcus's shoulder, eliciting a guttural scream from him. Dagger's laugh echoed through the library, a sound devoid of any humanity. "I could keep this up all day," he said, his voice dripping with sadistic joy. "You might even be more entertaining than the librarian. However, my patience is running thin."

Blood matted Marcus's hair and smeared his face. The library's fluorescent lights seemed to pulse with his erratic heartbeat. The cleaning roombas, oblivious to the carnage, continued their mundane duties, a perverse backdrop to his suffering.

"Stop," Marcus croaked. "And if you kill me, you won't find any more answers."

Dagger paused, considering Marcus's words. Then he shrugged with an air of cold indifference. "If Mr. Black wants you dead, then dead you shall be," he said, almost bored. Yet a wicked smile tugged at his lips. "But it doesn't mean I can't have a little fun first."

With a swift motion, Dagger slashed at Marcus's chest, carving shallow, painful cuts. Marcus grunted, his body convulsing as he tried to endure the never-ending onslaught.

Through the haze of pain, Marcus could barely keep his thoughts straight. Survival. He had to survive. But how? His mind grappled for any semblance of a plan.

"The sewers on J-8 street, you can find the rat there!" Marcus screamed, trying to gain a moment to breath.

Dagger's eyes flickered slightly at Marcus's hysterical fit.

"The rat is alive?" Dagger pressed.

Marcus let out a harsh laugh, the sound filled with a mix of pain and hysteria. "The rat? That fool is dead. And I am reborn. The rat is a cycle, a never-ending torment."

Dagger's confusion was evident, but a hint of satisfaction flickered in his eyes. "The rat is dead then," he said, more to himself than to Marcus. "Mr. Black will be pleased."

Dagger lowered his gun slightly, but his eyes never left Marcus. "And you, you're no use to anyone alive."

Marcus's mind went blank for a moment. This was it. His end.

Dagger suddenly grabbed Marcus's hair, yanking his head back to meet his eyes. "Any last words?" he hissed.

Sweat and blood dripped from Marcus's face as he struggled to focus. Desperation clawed at him. His hand slowly inched towards his last remaining weapon, a small concealed laz-pistol hidden in his belt. He hoped Dagger would continue his sadistic monologue for just a few moments longer.

But Dagger's keen eyes spotted the movement. He seemed almost delighted. "A final act of defiance? How quaint," he said, his tone mocking. With lightning speed, he knocked the gun from Marcus's grasp, sending it clattering across the floor.

"Nice try, but you're not fast enough," Dagger taunted, pressing the barrel of his own gun against Marcus's forehead.

Panic surged through Marcus. He was out of time, out of options. He had gambled everything and lost. His vision swam with the mixture of fear and fury fueling his thoughts.

The cleaning roombas hummed around them, a surreal reminder of the ordinary amidst the chaos. Dagger's grip on Marcus's hair tightened, angling his head just so.

Dagger cocked back the trigger on the revolver and put the barrel to Marcus's forehead.

"Let's finish this."