The Devil’s Army
The figure that had just saved his life stood tall, battle axe still in hand, dripping with the giant's blood at its edge. Their cloak fluttered in the dust-filled air, but their face remained hidden beneath a dark hood. For a moment, Jake could only stare, trying to process what was happening. He'd gone from thinking he was about to die to being saved by some mysterious figure.
"Who the hell are you?" Jake finally spat, still panting, his voice raw from exhaustion.
The figure didn't answer immediately. Instead, they surveyed the room, their sharp eyes scanning the devastation with an eerie calm. "I could ask you the same question, Renzo. But I'll be polite for once."
Jake's mind was racing. Renzo? That name it wasn't his. Was the figure referring to him as Renzo? Was he really that far gone already, that the identity of the man he was pretending to be had started to define him?
Before he could ask another question, a wave of soldiers rushed into the room, and each was clad in black attire drenched with rain. They were well-armed, with their equipment able to fill up the entirety of the room with bullets. Jake's heart sank when the icy, calculated gazes of the soldiers swept through the room. The tension hung heavy in the air.
Vito stood at the back of the room, hardly moving. His smile was wicked, his hands tucked into his pockets as if he were merely watching a show.
Jake's fingers tightened around the gun in his hand, his breath quickening. He didn't know how many of these men there were, but he was sure of one thing there was no way they were getting out of here unscathed.
The figure with the battle axe stepped forward, its posture relaxed but deadly. "So this is how it ends?" they asked, their voice surprisingly calm. "Surrounded by your enemies? You're slipping, Renzo. The price of your mistakes is high, and you've just signed your death warrant."
Jake felt the fire of anger start to rise in him. "Shut the fuck up," he spat out, not caring about the stranger's cryptic words. "I'm not dying here today. Not by your hands, not by Vito's. I'm still breathing, and as long as I am, I will fight."
The figure tilted their head slightly, the glint of amusement in their eyes visible even in the shadows. "You think I'm here to fight for you? Don't flatter yourself."
Jake never got a chance to say a word before the first soldier sprang forward, his rifle held high, and straight at Jake. The soldier moved fast, but Jake was faster. He ducked and rolled to the side, firing off three quick shots in rapid succession. The first two soldiers went down with sickening thuds, blood splattering across the floor, but the third one managed to dodge, firing back.
Jake's shot barely missed, grazing the soldier's shoulder, but the third soldier wasn't done. He aimed at Jake, and before Jake could move, a blur of motion a flash of metal slammed into the soldier's side, sending him crashing to the floor.
The figure with the battle axe did not break a sweat. They had moved in already, their axe slicing through the air like it was an extension of their body. The soldier was dead before he even hit the ground, his body torn apart by a single, clean strike.
Jake couldn't help but stare, his eyes wide in shock. "What the hell are you?"
A wicked grin crossed the figure's face, a dark voice rumbling. "A necessary evil."
The rest of the soldiers closed in on Jake, but there was something new in their eyes now: fear. They no longer were so confident of their numbers. Jake could see it, the doubt creeping into their movements, the hesitation in their eyes.
He used that. The adrenaline spurring him through his veins shot up as he fired at another soldier, and they went down with a clean shot into their chest. The blast resonated through the room, but the silence that ensued was worse. Jake could hear the rasp of his own breath in his throat, the sound of his breathing.
"Not bad for a kid," the figure said sarcastically, spinning the battle axe in their hand.
Jake grinned despite himself, a twisted sense of satisfaction washing over him. "I've had to grow up fast."
The soldiers, now visibly shaken, began to scatter, taking cover behind pillars and fallen debris. Jake didn't hesitate. He charged forward, gun raised, but just as he was about to take out another soldier, a sharp pain shot through his side.
He gasped, dropping to his knees, his hand clutching at the wound. Blood seeped through his fingers, but there was no time to focus on it. His vision blurred, but he pushed through the pain, lifting his gun once more.
"Shit!" Jake growled, his voice cracking. "I'm not dying here…"
He pulled the trigger again, but the shot missed. The figure with the battle axe was already moving, cutting through the soldiers with brutal efficiency. One soldier lunged at them with a knife, but the figure was faster, spinning around and taking the soldier's head clean off with a single swing. The body fell, blood splattering everywhere.
Jake gritted his teeth and hauled himself up to his feet. He could not stop now. He wouldn't stop. Not when there was a sliver of a chance, a glimmer, a tiny window of opportunity, to get out of this place.
Vito, still in the back, witnessed the whole carnage. His smile didn't fade for once, but his eyes turned cold as ice.
"You're all going to die here," Vito said, his voice soft, barely a whisper over the sound of the battle. "You've made your choice, Renzo. Now you'll pay for it."
The sound of Vito's voice sent Jake's blood boiling. He turned his focus to the man who had started all this chaos. "You're fucking insane," Jake snarled, his voice laced with fury. "You think this is over? You think you won?"
Vito's smile stretched wider. "You're not in charge here. You never were. You're a pawn in my game, and you've already lost."
The words hung in the air like poison, but before Jake could respond, the ground beneath them shook again. This time, it wasn't the building settling it was something else, something bigger.
A roar echoed through the room, the kind of sound that made Jake's blood run cold. Something someone was coming.
The figure with the battle axe turned, their eyes scanning the room as the soldiers began to retreat, their faces pale with fear.
"I told you," the figure said, their voice low, deadly. "This is your last chance, Renzo. We need to leave. Now."
Jake's breath caught in his throat. "What the hell is happening?"
The figure didn't say a word. Instead, it turned toward the door, its body tense, ready for the fight ahead.
And then, the doors to the room exploded open.
The force was enough to send everyone crashing to the ground. The blast was so loud, so intense, that it rattled the walls, knocking out the debris in every direction. Smoke cleared, and in the doorway framed by the explosion stood a new figure—a massive, armored soldier, bigger than anything Jake had seen before.
The soldier's eyes were cold and calculating, and he held an assault rifle, its barrel gleaming in the dim light.
Jake felt the hair on his neck stand on end.
And then, the soldier raised its hand, and the room plunged into chaos once again.