Bloodbath

"This city is sick. I can smell it in the air, the disgusting filth born of fornicators and murderers, drug addicts and vagrants. They will look up at me, wishing for mercy, and I will whisper, no."

"What the heck are you talking about now?" Rochelle asked a smoking Robert.

"You wouldn't get it." He answered, puffing out smoke from a cigarette. Robert had styled himself. He wore a brown trilby hat, a brown wool trenchcoat, and a white scarf.

"Didn't know you smoked." Asked Rochelle trying to change the subject. She had been with Robert for three days now, and the more he talked with him, the less she understood.

"I don't." He said, throwing the cigarette to the ground and stomping it.

Point in case.

Rochelle just ignored his antics and looked at the building on the other side of the street. A grey cement apartment, covered to the top in gang tags.

In the three days, Rochelle had been pulling files from the police storeroom and deciding on targets for Robert.

"So, what's the plan, boss?" Robert asked, his brown overcoat flowing with the wind.

"Have you already sealed the other exits?" She asked.

"Sure thing, chief," Robert replied innocently.

Rochelle squinted more at him, but even under her best scowl, he didn't falter. "Fine, I believe you, but if even one member of 'La Sagrada Familia' escapes the deal is off, and you are going back to hell alone."

After three days, not only had she become less wary in Robert's presence, even though she knew he could and would murder her without hesitation, she also started reflecting on her situation and how to escape it.

Offering her soul was a desperate move, but from what she understood, as long as Robert didn't uphold his side of the deal, she would be free. That's why she started adding such conditions.

Unfortunately, anything unrelated to the original conditions of the deal would be mercilessly refused by Robert. Otherwise, wouldn't she also have gotten her bed back?

"No worries, I got this, ma'am." He said smugly.

"All right. So, the plan is the same as I told you. Get in, lock the main door, and then..." She trailed as she realized she was mandating a mass murder.

"Go nuts. I get it. Don't wait up for me," Robert said, taking out a revolver.

Rochelle observed his lethal weapon smiling at the polished Smiths and Wesson magnum revolver model 500. Then she looked at the rest of his attire and focused on a part under his belt.

"Are you having a boner?" She asked, shocked.

"I... It's a natural reaction!" Robert said, flustered. He turned his gaze away from the magnum and walked towards the building, one magnum in his hand. "and one in my pants." he giggled.

Three guys were sitting on the stairs to the building. They chatted and pushed each other. However, the moment they saw Robert and his magnum, they went alert.

"Hola homes, what you doing here? This is Familia territory." They stood up and faced Robert, their hands resting on their guns tucked above the belt.

"Tengo que mostrarle una cosita a tu jefe." He answered in perfect Spanish. Back when he was a kid, he learned a few languages because of his parents, his father was a British businessman, and his mother was a half Italian half Spanish cook.

(I got to show a small thing to your boss.)

The Latin gang members looked at each other in surprise, then their leader went forward. "¿Que cosita?" (what thing?) He asked warily.

"sígueme adentro y te lo mostraré. No queremos atraer a los transeúntes, ¿verdad?" (Follow me inside and i'll show you. We don't want to attract spectators, rigth?)

The two gazed at each other. Then the gang member looked at a window on the second floor and whistled. A moment later, the door opened.

"Adelante, te seguiremos." (go ahead, we are right behind you.) The man pointed at the door with his arm and made space for Robert to proceed.

"Gracias." He thanked them and went in. "Stop!" he whispered as he went through the door.

A group of men already surrounded the entrance, all of them heavily armed and ready to shoot at any moment. Behind him, he heard the door closing and locking. The man that spoke with him disappeared in the crowd and went to whisper something to the others.

Then a bald man wearing a blue bandana walked past the guards. He held a certain wild charm about him, accentuated by the various tattoos on his face and bare arms.

"¿Mis hombres me dijeron que tenías algo que mostrarme?" he asked crossing his arms.

(My man told me you have something to show me.)

"Si." Robert slowly took off his hat, revealing the horns on his head.

"¿Que carajo?" "El pendejo esta loco." Various voices around Robert questioned his sanity or cursed.

"Shh." Robert shushed the crowd, then turned around at the door and cast 'Stop!' on the door.

"Di tus últimas palabras. Haré todo lo posible para recordarlos, así que elige sabiamente." (say your last words. I'll do my best to remember them, so choose wisely.) Robert spoke loud enough to be heard by everyone.

"Mátalo." The jefe spoke before retreating into the crowd, surrounded by laughter.

"muérete, pendejo." (Die, idiot.) The man closest to Robert shot his face off with his shotgun. Or so, he tried to do.

The bullets exploded in a flash bang and blinded everyone in the crowd.

"¡Pendejo!" "¡Culero!" "¡màmon!" Various expletives followed as everyone blindly shot in the light, making it shine brighter.

Thirty seconds later, when the sound of empty guns replaced that of bullets, the light slowly abated. Robert stood on the same spot as before, untouched. Behind and around him, hundreds of bullet holes ruined the entrance of the building, sparing only the enchanted door.

"pésima elección." He said, shaking his head. "Adesso toca a mí." (Terrible choice. Now it's my turn)

"Twist." He spoke plainly.

Twist was his latest addition to the quickdraw spell arsenal. It would generate two forces in opposite directions that would rotate around a stationary point.

What came after was a blood bath the witch the non-existing survivors would have remembered forever.

The man Robert had pointed to felt his neck tighten and then nothing as he had died. The men around him weren't so lucky and saw what came after.

His head turned to the left, while his neck turned to the right. The spine broke almost immediately with a snap, then the taunt twisted skin broke off with a sickening squelch.

The head, like a spinning top, didn't stop there as its owner's body fell to the ground, it kept spinning and spraying blood on the people around, its empty eyes staring into the void.

Unsatisfied with this gorefest, Robert pointed at the man that called him a 'culero'.

"Pull." The man's tongue flew off of his mouth after offering a minimum of resistance. The man then fell to the ground holding his bleeding mouth and crying.

"Así aprendes a no hablar como un estibador." (This will teach you not to speak like a dock worker.) Robert said, throwing the tongue to the ground and stepping on it.

He smiled at the rest of the crowd, busy recharging or running away. A man tried opening the door, but his hands couldn't budge the handle.

"Leaving soo soon? the party has just gotten started." Robert said as he placed the magnum against the man's head. He could hear him pray between sobs.

"No one is listening from above. Try below." He said and then scattered his brain and skull all over the door.

He turned around and emptied the cylinder of his gun into the crowd, killing six people with the remaining four shots. Cal .500 were enough to put a hole in a bear after shooting through a fridge, these pendejos stood no chance.

Robert wondered whether this was overkill as he saw an arm being ripped off by a bullet that had already gone through another man. Then shrugged and kept killing criminals as they escaped from the building.

Seconds later Robert stood by himself in the middle of a bloodbath. The entrance, after being devastated by the fire of dozens of guns had been repainted with the blood of the people tortured with "Twist."

"Time to move forward." He said walking to the first room on the ground floor.

"Knock knock," he said before breaking down the door with magic. Inside he found a family of three hugging tightly.

"Sigh. Look, I find no joy in killing children... But a job is a job. I promised I would clean the building, and I intend on doing it." he pointed his revolver and did the deed quickly. He really took no enjoyment in gunning down harmless people. But he was no hypocrite, if he could kill a hundred innocent men, why not a woman or kid?

Plus, their deaths would keep growing his horns. Since he had arrived on earth, his horns had almost doubled to nine cm. And he intended on harvesting ANY source of power.

He went to the second door and a similar scenario repeated, except this time the mother had hidden behind the door and tried stabbing his back. As a reward for her bravery, he killed the children first, so they wouldn't see their mother die.

-------------------

Thirty minutes later, he stood in front of the attic door. His overcoat was ruined by hundred of people's blood and bone fragments flying around as they broke, like an egg against a rock.

Robert looked at the last door, breathing out due to how tired he was. The magnum had run out of bullets somewhere around the second floor, and then he had to do the remaining nine by hand and magic.

Looking at his watch, he saw that thirty minutes had already passed. "Damn, I got to hurry up, 'Stop!' on objects lasts only up to thirty minutes." He said making sure the continuous version on him was still online.

He took a deep breath and yelled: "FBI, OPEN UP." then he kicked the door as hard as he could. The weak wood splintered as it met his boot.

The door opened up, followed by a rain of bullets. Robert simply walked under their hail of lead and started his massacre.

"Push!" A man flew through a wall and broke his neck.

A metal bat came for his face, but Robert used "Zap!" and met the metal with his hand. A moment later, the man fell to the floor electrocuted to death.

"Muah," Robert said, doing a chef's kiss.

The last man standing was the jefe he had met downstairs. All of his wild charisma had disappeared, replaced by terror. In a last-ditch effort, he ran to the window and jumped out, hoping that the fall would at least be less painful than what the monster had done to the others.

"Pull!" As the man started taking speed, he heard one of those cursed words and stopped mid-air, before being pulled back into the attic.

He landed on his face, right under the demon.

"¡por favor deje de!" he begged on the floor. "no mas..." (please stop. No more.)

"Snap, crackle, pop!" Robert yelled and in response, the man pissed himself anticipating the pain. Instead he was met by laughter.

"hahahahaah, you really thought that was a spell?" Robert kept laughing while looking down at a powerful gang leader that had caused the demise of dozens if not hundreds through narcotraffic and violence.

"Hagamos así. Dame todo lo que tengas sobre otras organizaciones y te sacaré rápido." Robert said with a smile. (Let's do it like this. Give me everything you have on the other gangs and i'll kill you quickly.)

The man looked to Robert and suddenly found his spine as he decided to spit on his face. unfortunately, the kinetic energy of the spit activated the barrier and the saliva fell back on his face.

"Tsk, tsk. Twist!" Robert pointed at the jefe's right arm. The bones snapped and soon the flesh and skin tore apart followed by a *thud* as the arm fell to the ground.

Naturally the jefe screamed like a butchered pig, holding his bleeding stump.

"no me hagas repetirlo." (don't make me repeat myself.) Robert threatened.

However, the jefe quickly succumbed to hypovolemic shock. Soon, even the stump stopped pumping out blood. Just like that, Carlito the local lieutenant of 'La Sagrada Familia' died in his own blood.