Rise to Chaos

I wouldn't stop until I had finished off all of them. I couldn't allow even one to escape, because if any of them managed to get away, they would try to take revenge next Friday. And I wasn't going to let that happen.

I started searching the first floor, my heart pounding in my ears. The echo of my footsteps resonated in the silence of the mansion. However, I didn't find anyone. The place was empty, as if the ghosts had decided to avoid me. They probably went up to the upper floors.

I pointed my gun forward, the certainty of the barrel giving me a sense of control. I had eight bullets loaded, enough as long as there weren't too many. I wouldn't need to reload if I acted with precision and speed. I began to climb the stairs cautiously, each step carefully calculated to make no noise. My breathing became slower, controlled.

Upon reaching the second floor, I saw a boy. He was alone, facing away from me, unaware of my presence. I crept up silently, getting right behind him. I could hear his breathing, his carefree demeanor. A knot formed in my stomach, but I ignored it. I aimed my gun directly at his head, and without hesitation, I pulled the trigger.

The shot echoed like thunder in the hallway, and the boy's body fell lifeless before me, hitting the floor with a dull sound. I stood still for a second, watching his lifeless body. This time I had been quicker, more precise. I hadn't hesitated.

Another enemy down.

I took a moment to ensure there was no one else on the second floor. Silence reigned again, but not for long. I heard a commotion of footsteps coming from the third floor. The sound was unmistakable: a large group was moving frantically above me. Climbing the stairs would be suicide. There were too many.

I thought quickly. If I couldn't face them head-on, I would surprise them from above. I remembered that the mansion had a classic design, with many edges and ornamental columns on the outside. I could use those structures to climb from the second-floor terrace.

Determined, I headed to the back of the building. The cold wind blew against my face as I stepped onto the terrace, and my gaze momentarily lost itself in the vast darkness enveloping the gardens. I took a breath, focusing on the next step. I began to climb with agility, using the edges and architectural decorations as footholds. The old structure was perfect for this.

My hands found a secure ledge, and I pushed myself upward. After a few moments of effort, I reached the third floor, right on the terrace connecting to the mansion's central part. The cold night air surrounded me, but my mind was focused, calculating my next move.

...

The cold night wind still brushed against my skin when I arrived at the third-floor terrace. I moved silently, my feet barely touching the ground as I advanced along the edge of the building toward the window that opened to the interior of the third floor. The mansion was so silent that you could feel the tension in the air, and that silence was only broken by the relaxed voices coming from inside.

I carefully peeked through the partially open window. There they were, eight of them, sitting or standing, their weapons relaxed in their hands, completely unaware. A rough, mocking laugh escaped one of them as they chatted among themselves.

—Do you really think that idiot is going to come up the stairs? —said one, a guy with a scar on his cheek, resting his shotgun on his shoulder.

—Of course he is —replied another with a confident smile, stroking his knife as if it were his favorite toy—. Everyone does the same. They go up the stairs thinking they can take us on. It's pathetic.

—Want to bet how long he lasts? —taunted a third, calmly adjusting the magazine of his rifle.

They were aiming toward the stairs, waiting for someone to come up. I prepared silently. I knew they weren't expecting what was about to happen.

I felt the cold steel of my Sig Sauer P226 in both hands. I still had enough ammunition, but I didn't care about running out of bullets. This time I wasn't going to be quick. This time it would be hell unleashed. With each gun aimed at a different target, I took a deep breath. I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins, heightening my focus, slowing time in my head.

One more step, and I was behind them, invisible like a shadow.

And then I shot.

The first man, the one with the scar, didn't even have time to react. The bullet pierced his skull, his head exploding in a cloud of blood and bone fragments that splattered the face of the guy next to him. He opened his mouth to scream, but I didn't give him the chance. A second shot pierced his throat, cutting off his scream abruptly. He only made a gurgling noise as he fell to his knees, choking on his own blood.

Chaos erupted.

—What the hell?! —one shouted, turning too late. His rifle fell to the ground as my next shot went through his chest, knocking the breath from his lungs and slamming him against the wall. Blood poured from his uniform as his body slid lifelessly.

The others tried to react, but I was already moving. I slid among them, my guns spitting death with lethal precision. The fourth man tried to raise his shotgun, but a bullet blew off his hand, making the weapon fall as he screamed in pain. I showed no mercy. My next bullet pierced his forehead, his body falling back with a dull thud.

The knife-wielder tried to attack me from behind, his blade gleaming in the darkness as it sliced through the air. I ducked just in time, pivoting on one foot and firing twice in his direction. The first bullet pierced his knee, making him fall with a scream. The second lodged in his eye, silencing his cries forever. His body crumpled, his knife clattering as it fell beside him.

—Shit! Where the hell did this bastard come from?! —the last one screamed desperately as he tried to draw his pistol. Fear was evident in his eyes, his hands trembling.

I didn't give him time. The last shot pierced his chest, leaving him gasping, on his knees, with a lost gaze fixed on the floor. I slowly approached him, feeling my breathing still controlled as I watched him die. His blood spread across the floor like a dark stain mixing with that of the others.

Silence fell over the room once more, broken only by the gasps of the dying and the echo of my footsteps. I looked around. Eight bodies, eight lives that had just been extinguished. The floor was covered in pools of blood, splattered with entrails and fragments of bones. The room, which had been a space of laughter and relaxation just moments ago, was now a slaughterhouse.

I slowly holstered my guns, still feeling the tension in my muscles. It hadn't been perfect, but it had been quick, efficient. Eight fewer enemies between me and the end of all this.

I turned toward the window I had entered through, the cold wind brushing my face again. There were still many more above. I knew this wouldn't be the last bloodbath. But at least, for now, the third floor was mine.