Standing On One's Own

The elevator doors bell rang as they approached their floor, and Charlotte's eyes were wide still staring at the dagger that was only a couple inches away from Vincent when he didn't flinch at all. Vincent's arms were still caged around her when she cautiously reached out for it, but he brushed her hand away.

"Leave it," he muttered.

"Like that?" Charlotte questioned. "People will come in and see it."

"My staff will clean it up."

Charlotte ran her hands up and down her arms to try and calm herself down and suddenly laughed making Vincent send her a confused glance. "Why are we running when we should be going after them?"

"It would be best to capture them when they are out of everyone's eyes."

"That's true, but what makes you think that they will follow us? They could be escaping right now after spying on us."

"But the real question was why they were in the building in the first place. If they wanted to spy on us, other various tactics don't require them to come in person."

"Who knows," Charlotte whispered. "At least we have the chance now."

"I know that they will bite the bait."

The doors opened slowly, slowly unwinding away that severely contrasted with Charlotte's racing heartbeat, as they ran out to the top floor of the hotel which she didn't see that Vincent had pressed earlier.

One would think that going out to the ground floor would be the better option, but apparently Vincent thought differently. There was nothing she could do about it now, but hope that they got through it safely.

The top floor was surprisingly a glass dome built around the entryway, but Charlotte didn't have the time she normally had to admire it, her eyes sliding around the surroundings. Even in the dark, it was gorgeous with the moonlight streaming through the clear panels.

Going outside of the dome to the concrete flat top of the hotel, Charlotte grasped the metal fencing around for safety and peered down to see how tall they were up and lost her breath for a second when the normal day-to-day life down below had shrunk to minuscule problems.

The wind was fierce, making her hair spin around in a frenzy, and Charlotte pulled out her pistol, aiming straight at the door. Vincent made sure that they were out of the direct line of sight from the door and had the perfect vantage point to make the first move. Vincent also had his gun drawn in an offensive stance.

They were tucked behind the wooden half-walled-in pergola stationed in the center of the hotel that had a mini fireplace kit. Charlotte tucked herself behind one of the thick posts and glanced over to the side to see if she would be able to shoot well from where she was at.

"Don't hesitate," Vincent said, his deep voice getting lost in the howls of the wind. "Aim for head or chest and let go."

Charlotte clenched her fingers around the gun, her breaths hollow, and nodded. "I got it."

Silence fell over them, and Charlotte could feel the uneasiness settle in her gut. She had to stay strong because if she crumbled, it would only make it harder for Vincent to pull through with her dead weight.

The elevator was practically announcing the vigilante's arrival, and when the door slid open there was a flurry of gunshots. The glass dome came crashing down, the shattering voices screaming in her ears. Charlotte covered her face from all of the sharp debris before biting down on her lips and pulling the trigger back.

The force back made Charlotte stumble, but she kept on going. The vigilantes kept on taking hits, the blood blooming from the wounds, but they advanced closer. Charlotte shook her head as tears leaked down her cheek, knowing that she had to keep on going if she wanted to survive.

Vincent threw his gun to the side when he realized it wasn't doing enough damage, his eyes glowing golden as he went by her in full charge against a shower of bullets.

Charlotte screamed when she saw bullets go through his body, his shoulder pushed back, and he growled from the pain. She continued to fire at the vigilantes, the silencer on the gun working well to conceal the chaos that was occurring.

The vigilantes slowly fell one by one, and there were about six in total before the remaining three went into melee combat against Vincent. Vincent's teeth elongated, hissing into the night, and bit down onto a vigilante's arm, ripping it completely off.

Blood splattered everywhere, covering the ground with a wash of dark red paint that couldn't be seen well in the night. Vincent advanced on the vigilantes, and Charlotte brought her gaze down since she couldn't bear to stare any longer.

Charlotte swallowed in fear, never getting used to the feeling of seeing death, trying to stable her trembling arms that could no longer be held up. She dropped the pistol on the ground with a grunt and sank to her knees catching one of the vigilante's attention who was already straying away from the pack.

Vincent was preoccupied with trying to get out of the swarm of fists flying his way and sharp blades away from his vital points while Charlotte was trying to stand on her own.