Raid on The Beast's Den (6)

"Shit, Shit, Shit, Shit!" It was the solitary word bouncing like a rubber ball inside the vast worry that infected his skull at that very moment. As the word repeated itself so did its ferocity of spittle diluted by the cool liquid nerves seeping from his pores. Yet, in this lambasting of mental terror, Kage had another idea. An idea which bore little fruit testing his mettle but was the end to his edge in survival. 

Before those footsteps ceased in front of the closet's door, Kage kicked at the hinges sending the flat wood flying through the hallway rattling against the walls. The closet sat at the focal point of two passageways; the right which plotted a path to the stairs; then the other which lay straight ahead with no end in sight. Several considerations that Kage made to drill into his head the prior night, ensuring proper memorization of the building's layout. He quickly took notice of the passage on his right, groaning as it was blocked by opposing figures, maintaining no less than six men all armed with blades and bats. 

'The ones too lazy to grab a gun during the fire. Lucky me.' 

Just as the first one drew back to wave the steel end at Kage's chin, he sent an overhead fist striking the pubescent foe on the scalp of his skull, dismantling the thug's motor functions. The bat slipped from the man's hand landing with no ceremony into Kage's grip simultaneously conducted to wind past the first collapsing subject into the torso of the next. 

Although age and height played a crucial difference in their toughness, this one still crumbled when met by the sheer power of metal crashing between his ribs which in turn forced a conjuration of blood to spew from his mouth. Fumbling the bat, Kage placed a booted foot onto the nearest attacker then kicked out, sending the body into the other four wrestling them out of their adrenaline filled anger into the reality their opponent manipulated. One which they were looked down upon as meager fish not worthy to be toiled with. 

Their stupor brought the intended reaction Kage had hoped for, with the seconds drumming on his wrist, he set off down the adjacent hall passing curious eyes not wishing for a fight but to take stock of the situation. Most had witnessed the quickness to the abrupt fight in how fast it had ended so chose to hide in fear rather than confront the rushing brute. Meanwhile, others more in line with prideful ego simply believed there was nowhere else for the fool to go. The passageway was a dead end with a near limitless number of members on the way. They would mix in with the group and act like they had never seen a thing to then take glory back to the boss whom they presumed lived still. 

In these grunts' minds they could not foresee the quick tempered yet considered plan Kage laid out inside his mind. It was dumb, purely suicidal, but he had faith. 

Faith in himself was all he could control. 

The thumps from Kage's feet exploded off the carpeted floor, nearly shaking the walls as he picked up speed with no intention apparent to stop before reaching the end of that hallway. Such an end bore a glazing whose purpose was to admire the outset of pollution from afar, but due to faulty engineering this glazing had been positioned three floors down from its intended location. So, in the place of a blue purpling sky from the vapors of chemicals and oil, instead was the face of another apartment complex. 

One that was very close. 

How close? 

Well, Kage was soon to discover. 

His calves felt themselves burning away as the joints to his legs cried out in pain at this tortuous endeavor to push beyond their limits. The coupling of adrenaline along to the tune of indecent disregard left Kage's legs to keep up with his mind. He had to make this, otherwise a chilly plunge to an asphalt road awaited him.

20 feet and closing the distance was nothing, barely a jump. 

The thugs, from their doorways, gawked at the intruder's decision. They had collectively come to realize his intention as he approached the end of his runway. Those which had been shaken by Kage's attack were now standing up still dazed but had clear sight of the intruder dashing ahead. 

15 feet could be accomplished in a matter of seconds, barely time left to decide differently. That jump was now appearing as a chasm with a vast ocean of man-eating sharks between. 

One person attempted to stuff a doorway into his face; however, he simply dodged the assault, continuing to tear the skin from the bottoms of his heels. Meanwhile, a couple of the armed guards were now stood up. A Southeast Asian feller squinted his eyes into Kage's back, seizing the moment to compare distance. 

His partner suffered a welt across his face choosing not to try such a pinpoint shot. A shot which had to thread the needle between the exposed thugs cautiously wanting a glance, then to land center mass in the intruder's spine.

Even if that jump was impossible, there was always the chance of some miracle. The Asian man had enough of miracles for a lifetime, he must be dead sure that this intruder never survived this encounter. Someone had to take responsibility, so why not him?

11 feet then the distance would propel itself to over forty. 

'Was it doable? Yes, it had to be. Otherwise…'

The run-up left nothing but logical thought in his mind. The inner machinations trying to persuade him that he was not wrong to place death and life in such a reckless action. In fact, Kage read about such an effect in a novel. The brain would rewire itself so that a careless, quite detrimental, decision was instead perceived to be beneficial so as to cease the act of dissonance in one's psyche. This must be that very effect. Of course, this state of dissuading dissonance would not matter if he wound up as a splotch on the sidewalk for a hound to sniff then urinate upon. 

Lightning struck outside the window illuminating the rest of Kage's path as well as the guard's line of sight. Its beam of energy flashed out casting Kage's shadow long and narrow, opening an avenue for a potential difference to this outcome. 

"Almost there" he shuddered.

5 feet were the last that Kage could count as his right foot stuck firm in the carpeted floor. Its next move would be to propel his body through the glass to his next destination whether that be one of impending doom or the other of sleet salvation. 

In his rush to reach the end of the hallway, he didn't hear the ricochet of bullets whizzing past his head. Three blew chunks from the wall and floor as the other guards had now taken aim hoping to strike down the intruder. 

The one with the truest of aim saw the path, it was so clear blistering itself with dotted flowers of pink. In this haze of exultation, the guard deluded himself with this color of pink which in fact was the stream of blood pooling from a cut that nicked him just above his left eyebrow. Only now had it come to clot his vision, ever so slightly, drawing the barrel of his Glock to the left. 

Kage braced himself with both forearms rigid in front of his face as he sought to block the glass for the briefest of moments. This would hypothetically allow his vision to remain clear once out in the windy air. He shattered the glass quite easily, pieces exploding at his clothes tearing through them shredding up his arms and hands. Then, before he could plummet to a certain death, his left foot kicked off from the ledge sending him speeding across the sky, arms having fallen from their rigid state. Hands aiming with the bead of his iris for the opposing building's fire escape. 

From below he would have appeared as a wailing spirit flying through an open black backdrop with arms flailing like they belonged to a baboon clawing at the last banana in its jungle. The exact view a single teenage grunt witnessed as she disassembled one of the torched Mercedes. She gaped at the pure fantastical nature of this death-defying stunt. Perhaps it was just that, a figment of her imagination for no one could be so stupid in performing a trick like this one. 

While the woman gaped at the flying man the calls and screams to kill the flying one persisted. Then in the midst as their boss's cold still body rotted in the arms of his best friend, the half-blind guard took his shot. A bullet blasted outward weaving its way between birch wood doors, gawking grunts, then shaken glass. Yet was unimpeded by all obstacles that meant to challenge its trajectory. 

Then, just as the 9mm cylinder approached the spine of the intruder, an unknown pull took it away from its intended destiny instead forfeiting its life to die in the man's left arm. This impossibility left the guard shocked into stunned silence as his fellow contributors fled to the hole. Yet they could not spy the intruder as he was already gone, having taken refuge in a darkness so persistent as well as thick it allowed vision to exceed only a meter in front of their faces.