Crimson Entry

The night fell fast.

Too fast.

Wind howled through the trees surrounding the Michaels estate, a hush of danger sweeping through the compound like a whisper of death. The guards had been doubled. The lights adjusted. Every hallway monitored.

And yet, Elara slipped in like smoke.

Cloaked in obsidian, her presence was nothing but shadow. Cameras flickered. Power lines cut momentarily. She moved with surgical precision, bypassing every electronic net Gina had laid.

Inside the estate, Gina paced the central corridor, her earpiece flickering with ghost signals. "Anything?" she asked.

"Nothing," replied the tactical chief.

And that was the problem. Nothing meant something.

Then the lights dimmed.

Just briefly.

Enough for Gina's breath to catch.

She turned.

Elara was standing at the far end of the hallway.

Their eyes locked.

Time stopped.

The predator had arrived.

Gina didn't wait.

She drew her weapon and fired.

Elara twisted out of the line of fire like a serpent, flipped over a support beam, and lunged forward with her blade. The two women clashed—metal to metal, breath to breath. It was silent, lethal ballet.

A dance choreographed by hate.

Upstairs, Dave had been listening to the encrypted comms when he heard the emergency tone. Gina. Ground level. Hostile confirmed.

Without a word, he grabbed his pistol and sprinted.

---

In the hall, Gina ducked, kicked, and blocked a blade strike with the butt of her weapon. Elara's speed was unnatural—trained for war, born for assassination. But Gina's rage gave her edge.

"You're late," Gina hissed.

Elara smirked. "You're pregnant."

"And still faster than you."

Gina spun, landing a direct elbow to Elara's jaw.

But Elara retaliated with a sweep to the knees—Gina stumbled.

Blade raised.

Then—

Gunfire cracked.

Dave.

He had arrived. His shot clipped Elara's shoulder, sending her spinning.

She turned toward him, eyes blazing.

"I warned you!" Gina shouted, pushing herself up. "She's not an opponent. She's a weapon."

But Dave stood firm. "So am I."

Elara moved.

Faster than thought.

One shot rang out—hers.

Dave staggered.

His gun dropped.

Then he did too.

Blood pooled beneath his shirt.

"No!" Gina screamed, unloading her clip at Elara, who vanished into the shadows as suddenly as she had come.

Gina ran to Dave, dropped to her knees, and pressed her hands to his chest. "Stay with me. Dave, please. Don't you dare—"

He coughed, blood at the edge of his lips. "Told you… I don't want to be steel… I want to be human."

Gina pressed the emergency patch on her watch.

"Tactical med team, now! Code red!"

She cradled his head. Her hands trembling.

And for the first time since the war began, Gina cried.

---

In the treetops above the estate, Elara crouched with a wounded shoulder, watching the chaos below.

She licked the blood at her lip and smiled.

She had missed this.

War.

She vanished into the woods, leaving behind a wound, a warning… and a promise.

This was far from over.