The Stoic Heart

'In an obscure alley, I find myself stuck with a few men. The chilling feeling of a cold barrel against my head overwhelming everything else- whether it be the paralyzing dread or my pumping heart.'

Mark closed his eyes as a smile formed on his face.

'Why am I monologuing?'

He wouldn't know. Perhaps the young man finally lost it as he stared death in the face, or he was simply trying to find a distraction amidst his dreary situation.

Just a few moments ago, he felt someone grip his shoulder, then turned around to see a gun get pressed against his forehead.

However that wasn't the important part.

It was the man armed with it. The damned scoundrel had the glare of a cold-blooded killer. All the experience Mark had gained in reading people told him one thing: he will die if he does something wrong.

So he went into the nearby alley as directed and waited before another surprise came to him.

Two more wretches came from the dark passageway- the young men he beat up yesterday morning. They seemed to have recovered and out for vengeance.

Sadly, Mark knew that was not the case. His predicament was much worse.

The cold blooded man stepped back- his gun still pointed at Mark's skull, before one of the two stepped forward. The sensation of a metallic barrel once again returned to the back of his head.

He was being used as a test for the two newbies. And moreover, as an example for people who mess with the gang they were all in: the Spheks.

'It truly is the most vicious gang in the city. Already resorting to killing.'

Yes, he will die if nothing is done. After the newbie pulls the trigger, the test will be completed and the cold-blooded man will finish the job himself.

And no, the gun held to his head by the young scoundrel isn't loaded. The man is simply too inexperienced to be trusted with a loaded firearm. Mark knew he could easily steal it from the wretch's shaking hands and use it to defend himself. The problem is that the cold-blooded man also knew, and didn't put in any ammunition.

That being said, it was all conjecture. The apathetic man could be insane enough to have actually loaded the damn thing.

He wanted to sigh.

'I'm screwed either way.'

The silver lining was that Mark's ability would be able to shine in this high-intensity situation.

He made a mental map, trying to figure out exactly where he was caught. Simultaneously, he began creating plans. The biggest variable was the bottom line of the cold-blooded man. Mark would have to place some bets and brace for the worst.

"Hurry the fuck up."

A deep voice resounded through the valley as the callous man intimidated the young wretch into action. Perhaps he was impatient with the newbie's hesitance, or was wary of the unmoving hostage. Mark really hoped it wasn't the latter.

'Dammed miser. Give me some time to think!'

Yet he was thankful. The cruel vagrant made a mistake: giving away his position. With that, Mark had everything laid out. The newbie was now under pressure and was soon going to act.

He couldn't help but roll his pale-black eyes.

'Here goes something.'

Mark fanned the agitation of the inexperienced scoundrel, slowly rising it as he felt the gun on his head shake with increasing intensity. The captor became more and more anxious while the hostage remained ever-so calm. It would have been amusing if it weren't so dangerous.

Luckily it was a shallow miscreant holding the gun. If it were that cold-blooded man standing just a meter back, he should have shot Mark the moment he felt the slightest bit of unease.

'Now!'

The wretch's anxiety climaxed as Mark abruptly turned and in one fluid motion grabbed the gun and pointed it upward while viciously seizing the man's neck.

A rapid clicking resounded through the alley as the wretch rapidly pressed on the trigger.

'Of course it was empty.'

From Mark's sudden struggle to the realization that he was unarmed, the newbie was dealt two shocks. Mark amplified those shocks to petrifying levels and dragged the wretch by the neck as he hurriedly retreated into the alley- away from the callous man and the other novice criminal.

He looked at the two with blazing intensity in an attempt to intimidate them against acting.

His eyes widened.

'This guy is fucking insane'!

Shots echoed through the alley as Mark hid behind his meat shield as much as he could. He felt the impact of the bullets push the poor wretch into him.

He then peeked and saw the other newbie frantically try to stop the callous man from firing more shots. Witnessing the momentary distraction, Mark immediately dropped his shield and made a mad dash to the end of the alley.

More shots resounded through the night as he turned the corner and began to sprint through the dark street. He heard distant footsteps trail behind him while blindly running for his life.

Adrenaline gave him an utterly desperate boost, each breath becoming painful as his heart pumped with a dreadful vigor. He heard bullets fly past him but paid them little attention.

It was outrageously difficult to hit a fast moving target while in motion yourself. Yet he was nevertheless relieved that the man eventually stopped firing. It would really be unpleasant to get done in by a lucky shot.

Mark tried to discern his surroundings as he desperately dashed in the direction of his house. The only thing he was concerned about was that some homeless wastrel would do something in an attempt to get the favor of a gang, but it was too dark and those wretches probably didn't have enough energy to do much of anything.

His eyes lit up in a perilous blaze as he glanced at a recognizable building. Even though energy was draining from him at an appalling rate, the sight gave him a second wind as he continued sprinting with a fervent intensity.

He had just entered the territory of the Hounds.

'Get off my ass!'

Yet to Mark's utter dread, the cold-blooded lunatic didn't stop and continued to pursue him. That left him with his final gamble.

He turned the corner of an intersection and began running on a predetermined path.

After a few minutes of desperate maneuvering, he deeply inhaled, wincing in pain as his lungs cried in agony.

"Aaron! Get over here!"

He shouted the words as loud as his failing lungs allowed, winding him in the process as he slowed down and entered a coughing fit. Mark endured his harrowing pains and began to sprint once more.

While in the hostage situation back at the alley and ever since he began running, Mark had been trying to pinpoint the exact location of his friend. Though Aaron had recently been lurking beyond his usual area to find Tom- the man Mark had killed, the task should have been handed down to a grunt at this point. After all, the right hand man of the boss should be doing more important things.

The only reason Aaron patrolled is because he personally asked for it. And Mark knew his route because he had accompanied the man on a few of his night strolls.

With enough luck, Mark's savior should appear shortly. Though he honestly didn't know if he had the stamina to survive until then.

As his vision was beginning to fade from fatigue, he saw a figure emerge from the darkening surroundings.

"Mark!?"

The voice seemed to be the most euphoric sound the young man had heard in a while. Mark opened his mouth but to his dismay found that his throat was too dry to speak properly.

"He-"

A coughing fit ensued.

"Gun!"

Aaron's eyes widened as he hurriedly groped around his coat, pulling out a firearm. Mark rejoiced as he slowed down and turned around.

The lunatic pursuing him had never stopped, running deep into the territory of another gang.

Only now did he begin to halt- simply to draw his gun for a steadier shot.

But it was too late. While the callous wretch was exhausted and unready, Aaron was lively and fully focused as he fired at the man.

With a grunt, the vagrant gracelessly fell to the floor.

Aaron aimed and shot once more, making sure that he hit a vital spot.

"…"

Mark heaved, trying to take in as much air as his lungs allowed. They both paused and looked at each other before slowly approaching the body. Aaron kept his firearm directed at the corpse as he confirmed his kill.

After a few seconds, the gangster rose and approached Mark.

"Take a moment to calm down. Are you hurt?"

Mark shook his head, still looking at the dead man.

"I'm fine."

Aaron frowned as he put his hands on Mark's shoulders, gripping them with a sobering firmness.

"Calm. Down. Stop staring at the dammed corpse and take a good look at yourself."

After hearing that, Mark slowly steadied his breathing. He became more aware of the heart pounding inside of him- still beating at an astounding intensity. Looking at his body, he saw a gash on his right waist. A bullet grazed him there.

Aaron locked eyes with Mark as he tried to smile reassuringly- instead giving a crooked grin.

"You can hide your stress. But you can't make it go away. Mistaking the two will screw you over."