Dreadful Death
...
There was only silence in the house with no noise from the falling debris. The dining room was filled with rubble and smashed furniture, with Athol in the middle, on his knees.
His body was soaked in cold sweat. Blood trickled out of his facial orifices as he continued to suffer from the backlash of his earlier attack.
Athol was more exhausted than he could tell with the damage his internal organs had taken. He wanted to rest, but sadly he lacked the luxury to do that. All because of the enemy in front of him. Someone whom he looked at with nothing less than dread.
"Police Force is not incompetent!" Athol did his best to sound convincing. "Sooner or later, you will be caught by them!"
He knew his only hope for life was the Police Force. After all, killing a police officer would enrage the entire force. If today one officer had been killed, tomorrow another might be.