Facing Death, not my first time (2/3)

Jack Slash was experienced, the fact that his first action was going for my throat showed that he had no qualms about killing and was, in fact, proficient in doing so.

My greatest aspect, stealth was currently being invalidated because he already knew my position. So what I needed to do was to distract him, misdirect him, and get his attention out of me.

And the perfect idea came to mind.

The way Jack slashed and followed my movement with his eyes told me that he was not only full of himself but also had the instinct and abilities to back up such an ego.

But senses could be deceived, lies so good that even looking at it with your eyes would not be enough to discern the reality which lay beneath it.

Taking two grenades out of my pouch, I listen to the way he begins to stalk to my location, slowly inching towards the left perhaps hoping to get the drop on me since it was a narrower side between all the storage boxes.

That worked for me, however, because I fainted, throwing my bundle of cloth that was wrapped around my face into the open, exactly where Jack thought I would sprint through.

As predicted, with a laugh he projected his blade once more, and cut the cloth right down the middle. He had shown how skilled he was with his earlier attempt, and as such cutting fast-moving objects should be second nature to him, and wouldn't allow him enough time to see what lay beneath the illusion.

The grenade his blade cut through.

The explosion was almost enough to knock me off my feet, but I had already moved as soon as the faint had been tossed, protecting myself behind another pillar.

However it had served its purpose, the shrapnel and explosion probably destroying whatever concentration the madman had been putting on.

There was a shout of pain, but considering the following curses the man wasn't incapacitated. It didn't matter.

"What the fuck? Who uses grenades indoors- No! What cape uses grena-?" He stopped his rambling, his face etched with anger soon falling off as I jumped out of the cover and kicked out, boot slamming against the wrist holding his knife.

With a scream of pain, Jack Slash let go of the knife. Good, flowing to the next stance, I pull my arm back to jab at his throat.

But the move is aborted, rapidly changing the move to roll away as the air was cut by yet another slash. 

That man, what scary instincts. Even as his knife dropped out of his hands the man had enough in mind to kick the blade my way. It seems any physical contact is enough to create the invisible elongated blade effect.

However, his smug smile at catching me off guard was quickly replaced by horror as another grenade fell right in front of him.

I was already out of there, having rolled away as much as I could, grenades were not something to play around with after all.

"Wai-" Whatever he was about to say was cut off, as the explosion engulfed his body and launched it, making it fly in a perfect arc before slamming against one of the walls of the building with a wet smack.

I pick up my pistol, having controlled my evasion to go after it as soon as Jack was distracted, before turning and walking towards the bloodied man, ignoring my ringing ears from the two explosions back to back.

He still seemed conscious, his meat-pulped body that was slumped on the wall, leaving a trail of blood and quickly making a disgusting puddle around him, somehow, even with all of that he managed to turn his head and face me.

It wasn't pretty, half of his head was blown off, his left eyeball had been lost in the explosion, and parts of his cranium were visible.

"Y-you, who the he-hell are you?" His voice was raspy, and as he talked blood began to spew out of his mouth.

Jack looked at me and met my indifferent eyes. "Who are you?" Was my response. All I knew was his name, Jack Slash, yet he wanted to know mine. Very well.

At my response, Jack seemed to tremble, either in anger or in fear I didn't know, nor did I care.

Leveling my pistol to his face, my lips move.

"Storm, the Black Storm." A bang soon followed, and the eyes of a man filled with tears fell to the ground.

Staring at the body of the man I killed, my thoughts briefly circle, all that I knew him by was the name Jack Slash, and with such a scary name I felt like not many people would miss him.

There was a sense of relief emanating from my head, one that shouldn't be occupying my mind since there was nothing to be relieved about. I simply killed a man, why should I be so relaxed after confirming his death?

It didn't make sense, even if I have killed more people than I could possibly count (Not that it was particularly impressive, considering I could only count to ten reliably), not once in my life have I ever felt good about killing someone. Not murderers, not ring dealer kings, not prostitute owners.

And yet-

That sense of relief unnerved me, it came from the same place that sent me the name of the stripped woman. Whatever part of me felt good about killing this man was the same one that felt a connection to the heroes who were fighting the stripped woman.

I shake my head, now is not the time to get caught in my own thoughts. There was another target to kill.

I turn to him and notice that his crying has been getting louder, the doctor also hasn't moved from his place on the floor.

Walking towards him, I didn't bother hiding myself, he already knew where I was, and thanks to all that crying he wouldn't have enough breath to call for help in the form of his daughter, Bella.

His right arm had been hit by stray shrapnel from the grenades, it was the reason for his cries.

Once again, cocking the hammer of the gun back I waste no time pointing it right at the doctor, who seemed to compose himself enough to look at me through a pained grimace and become startled upon seeing my face.

"Y-your a kid, you're just a fucking kid!"

It didn't matter what I was, not here nor back in my old world. A bullet would kill me the same as it would an adult, so differences based on age were hardly something I bothered with.

There was no response to his statement, simply the sound of a trigger being pulled back.

And watched in shock, as it impacted on a person that wasn't there before, and fell to the ground completely harmless.

In front of you, stood the Siberian, having somehow instantly appeared in front of you.

And she looked pissed.