Bulletproof rat 2

He could hear them. They made it their duty to be as loud as possible. He was in the clear; he had warned them several times to tone down the noise. No punishment, no harm will befall them, only if they are obedient and learn to be quite. But they never learn. Mutual understanding seems to be a thing out of reach as from where he sat, spread out in all essence, he could hear them clanking, squeaking, and their feet scurrying about. He had had it. They never respected his peace of mind especially at night. Today especially, today was draining, the insults from people at his bricklaying work, the looks he received could drive a man insane. Could make a man mentally deranged.

They too would not insult. After this night, they will never insult him because this night, they will all die. He will roast them after they are dead, slowly in an open furnace in his sitting room and laugh as they wither.

Their shrieks will make great opera.

He ran to the back of his crib and produced his flamethrower, they ran too fast, so hence the flamethrower. With a sense of urgency, he entered their shared dingy kitchen, they were all present, like good students. Few turned looking at him curiously, others continued their daily business paying his bulging red eyes and flaring nostrils no mind.

He's had had it with them. With a loud cry, a cry only meant for gladiators in the arena, he opened fire on them. They shrieked somewhat suprised, before they began to run helter skelter. Some that escaped the open assault ran pass him into the open rooms. None will escape, he'd told himself. No one shall escape judgement. Dashing after them, he let them have it. Different worn out furniture flaming up. His prized junks going up in flames but this was not his major concern at the moment. He's had had it with them.

In seconds, fire engulfed the whole house burning away the debris. Before the house burns down though, he promised himself that he will catch those stubborn creatures. Those creatures called rats, and he will put them in their place. He will chase them until every single one is dead.

****

Only a madman chases rats when his house is on fire but a man who blows a whistle when his end is near is in a new plane of unidentifable madness. Kaito stared down at the man Lewis as he blew a whistle. It was probably to signal his associates of the danger upon his head. A cry for help. The best alternative was to run, maybe he would've outrun death. Kaito will kill him for that mistake. His calling out for help before attempting to fight makes him unfit, weak, in Kaito eyes. To run or to fight, the outcome would've been the same; death, but an honourable death though. Now, there will be no honourable death for him, his flesh with be sliced to different pieces, even his mother would not recognized his corpse.

Kaito leapt down from the height, landing in a crouch, his hands pressing against the floor in order to break the fall. Staring murderously at Lewis, he rose up, his eyes sweeping briefly over the environment. His sword was at a distance, lodged into a man's back who unceremoniously had slumped on the floor in the final show of death. The bullets in his gun should be saved, his knife will be used for cutting this coward's meat. So with this conviction, Kaito whipped out a knife from the pockets of his industrial jacket.

''Others before have tried," Lewis spoke in a hurry, giving a small smile, "but none had succeeded."

''Others were not like me. Don't worry, it will be over in an instant." Kaito hit the floor with a foot and propelled towards Lewis at a vicious speed, his knife by his side ready to do damage. Kaito lunged it at Lewis heart, nicking the man's skin slightly as Lewis ducked down at the last minute. Kaito's knees were quick to respond, aiming a well placed hit to Lewis's jaw. The man, Lewis staggered back trying to regain his footing. Kaito didn't give him breathing space. He came at him with quick slashes, blood splashed as the knife opened a deep gnash on Lewis forearm, little cuts on his face and neck. Kaito went for the knees, cutting deep wounds on his thighs. Lewis rugged jeans turning reddish-green as blood gushed steadily from the cuts.

Lewis looked around frantically, his eyes turning as if waiting for something or someone. A salvage kick on his stomach by Kaito sent him sailing across the room, hitting the wall hard with a loud smack.

Kaito stood upright and examined him like one will do an insect before dissecting said stubborn insect. He expected a challenge. Walking across the room he dislodged his sword from its previous victim and stared back at Lewis. The sword will delivered the final hit; slicing his head clean off, delivering it to the concrete floors as a blood gift, his neck squirting out blood, hands in a frantic search for it's lost head in chaos.

Kaito walked, sped walked, then broke into a run, the sword raised at a bent angle ready to swipe the neck off. Someone rammed into him from the side throwing him sideways. Kaito a little dazed, got up, steadying himself. The man who had just rammed into him with the strength of a cow was burly, his muscles almost ripping through his T-shirt. His eyes were unnaturally red, Kaito attributed it to weed. He couldn't think for long, no time, as the mass of bulk was charging towards him like a raging bull.

Kaito brought out his gun from its holster and aimed. Pressing down on the trigger, he fired.

The aftershock giving his hands a little trill, but it had done the job. The burly man was gripping his throat where the bullet had penetrated, maybe in an effort to staunch the bleeding. He began choking on his blood, spurting out some from his mouth. In a minute, the burly man crashed to the floor, the concrete vibrating.

As the dust settled, Lewis grunted, his body in pain and quickly losing iron. ''You are just like the others, they were not fast enough, now... hmph, you will see why time is of the essence.''

"Another mista..."

Kaito sensed it, the creeping feeling of someone behind him. Before the dust had had it's chance to settle, someone had snuck behind him. The moment, Kaito took two hurried steps forward, turning back immediately with his gun raised. The gun pushed out of his hand, his assailant giving two blows to his stomach in quick succession.

His stomach coiled around itself. Kaito raised his head, staring back into bloodshot eyes, just like the previous man. Two jabs to his face and when blood seeped from his nose, he felt it might have broken. His assailant tried to land another, Kaito wasn't having none of it. He dodged, grabbed the hand bending it in an odd shape, stooping low he gave the man a low blow.

Then man bent in pain, Kaito grabbed his neck, twisting it sideways in a precise fast motion, cracking it in the process. A lifeless body dropped sloppily from his hands. He breathed in and out .The night was far from over. There were others to be killed, Kaito could feel them. He could feel their eyes staring him down, not acting, just staring. A glance to his side, he counted, one, two, three, four. They were four and a petite woman. He could take them down and the woman, hers will be a piece of cake.

''You fight good,'' the woman said, her voice cool and carrying all the edges.

****

Aura is the basic life energy present within every being that exists. It's a spiritual energy which emanates from ever living thing.

It is also a feeling or character that a person or place seems to have.

Kaito feels this violent aura pressing down on him. Her words could cut through steel and she wouldn't notice. As she stood there, her aura began weighing. Kaito realized he had made the mistake of judging this book by its deceptive cover. She took forward steps toward him, the four men following her pace like mindless dolls. Their eyes all shades of red as they moved in a musical sync, their interest on her. They moved as if being hypnotized by her nonexistent beauty. It was a different kind of weird, the kind that had no reasonable answer. They worked their way towards him. Kaito picked up his gun, his ammunition was running low and he had just ran into this bind. Kaito watched her smirk, it must be because she saw the flicker of fear that briefly crossed his face or she was envisioning his demise.

''Words are wasted on the dead, you will be among the dead soon."

''Is there a name for your kind of evil? What have you done to them?" Kaito asked, gripping his weapon firmly.

''The kind you have apparently never crossed and as for what I did to them, you will find out soon.'' She turned to them and said without a flicker, ''kill him."

They rose with a hunger. A hunger to please that woman. Their woman. Their eyes bloodshot as they looked him over. Those eyes roving round Kaito, their brains working like wheels in a cog as they appraised him slowly, their face scrunching up in disgust as if they found him unworthy. They began to form a circle aiming to caved in their prey. Kaito has became their prey: he won't have that. He pointed his gun at the left-winged man, the slightly average man unbothered, a picture of serenity, the middle man– and not a change of stance. Kaito changed direction, pulling a blink-and-you'll-miss-it and fired–not at the man but at the woman who stood at the center of the room.

Whatever she was, she held firmly the keys to this grotesque act.