Blisters erupted on Blessing's arm in a sudden, horrifying wave, spreading from her palm to her shoulder. The skin swelled and split open, each boil popping with a sickening sound, releasing rivulets of blood that streaked down her arm. She clutched it, teeth clenched against the agony.
"Bloody hell!" she hissed, her voice trembling as she stared at the gruesome sight. "What just happened?"
Elvis smirked, his stance loose and confident as he adjusted the collar of his sequined jacket. Beside him, his angel, Tiny Elvis, floated with an air of self-importance, holding a guitar that shimmered like stardust. "Now that's what I call TCB—takin' care of business!" Elvis declared. "Hold on tight, darlin'. We're 'bout to have us a rock 'n' roll riot!"
Blessing's blood-slicked hand trembled as she tightened her grip on the bat. Without hesitation, she charged at Elvis, her eyes blazing with fury. She swung hard, aiming for his smirking face, but he evaded her blow with a spin that could have graced any dance floor. He stopped mid-spin, striking a flamboyant pose.
As if on cue, more boils erupted along Blessing's arm, bursting in quick succession. The pain wracked her body, drawing a guttural scream from her throat as she staggered, clutching her arm.
"C'mon now, baby," Elvis crooned, his voice oozing mockery. "Just give it up, sugar. Ain't nobody gotta get hurt no more, uh-huh!"
Blessing's glare could have cut through steel. "Nah," she spat through clenched teeth. "Unfortunately for both of us, I was raised to be a persistent individual."
Elvis let out a theatrical sigh, rolling his shoulders like a boxer preparing for the final round. "Well, that leaves me no choice, sugar," he said, gesturing to his angel. "Time for the crème de la crème."
With a dramatic flourish, Elvis shouted, "Tiny Elvis: King of Rock 'n' Roll!"
Tiny Elvis began to play his guitar, the sound deafening as it pulsed through the room. The high-frequency notes seemed to materialize on Blessing's legs, where new boils swelled grotesquely before bursting. Blood trickled down her thighs, pooling at her feet. She dropped to one knee, sweat pouring from her brow. Despite the searing pain, she clenched her teeth and, with a sudden burst of defiance, hurled her combat knife at Elvis's feet.
He sidestepped effortlessly; his movements perfectly synchronized with the flashing patterns of the LED floor. Blessing narrowed her eyes. She was no longer watching Elvis but the rhythm of the lights beneath them.
Elvis spun, his hips moving in time to the music. "Well, wow, sugar! I gotta say—you're either real feisty or real foolish. Either way, this ain't lookin' too good for ya, uh-huh!"
"I'll leave that for the future to decide," she shot back, her voice steady despite the pain. She took a deep breath, her fingers tightening around the bat's handle. Closing her eyes, she forced herself to ignore the pain and focus on the flashing lights.
When her eyes snapped open, there was fire in them. She charged again, this time matching her steps to the LED patterns. The boils stopped forming. Pain still clawed at her limbs, but her resolve burned brighter. She pursued Elvis relentlessly, their movements becoming a deadly dance across the glowing floor.
Blessing swung her bat again and again, each strike forcing Elvis to dodge faster and faster. His usual grace faltered. Finally, he missed a step. A boil erupted on his palm, and he froze, staring in disbelief as it burst. In that split second, Blessing swung her bat with every ounce of strength she had left, connecting with his jaw. The force sent him sprawling, and a tooth flew from his mouth, clattering to the floor.
The LED floor flickered once, then disappeared. Tiny Elvis vanished with a shimmer, leaving behind only silence and darkness.
Elvis groaned, clutching his face. "My tooth... my beautiful tooth," he whimpered.
Blessing stood over him, blood dripping from her arm and onto the floor. She tilted her head, her face showing signs of exhaustion. "Sheesh," she said. "You'd think a guy coming to a fight would expect to lose a tooth or two. It's only natural."
Elvis glared up at her, his voice rising to a dramatic pitch. "You maniac!"
Blessing chuckled dryly, planting the bat against the floor for balance. "Now that I've figured out your little trick, I guess that means you've yielded. Unless, of course, you'd like to go for round two. I still have a few moves from dance class I could try."
Elvis groaned again, gingerly touching the gap where his tooth used to be. "I yield," he muttered.
"Good," she said, smirking. "Don't worry too much about the tooth. You can always get it replaced."
"Easier said than done," he grumbled.
"Mind showing me the torture room," Blessing asked, raising the bat with a threatening tilt, "or do I have to knock out the rest of your teeth first?"
Elvis sighed, defeated. "That way," he said, pointing weakly.
"Thanks," she said, turning on her heel. "Adios, mi amigo."
She walked off, leaving Elvis nursing his bruised jaw and shattered pride.
Elsewhere, a long, gruesome smear of blood stretched across the floor, glistening faintly under the light bulbs like the trail of a snail, only far more sinister. Kojo dragged himself along the cold tiles, his body barely moving as he used one arm to propel himself forward. His breath came in ragged bursts, sweat and blood mingling on his face. He paused for a moment, glancing back at the pathetic distance he'd managed to cover.
"Not much ground, " he muttered to himself. "I'm bound to get caught any moment now."
His neon lips curled into a bitter sneer. "Darn that woman. Ruined my once-perfect physique."
He gritted his teeth and pressed on, repeating his mantra under his breath like a lifeline. "Keep moving forward. Keep moving forward." The words were almost a whisper, barely audible over the distant sound of activity. His goal was tantalizingly close—just a few more feet.
But just as he reached for the wall to pull himself up, a shadow loomed over him. A creaky voice broke the silence.
"Ah... you must be one of the escapees."
Kojo looked up to see an old janitor, hunched and weathered, lazily swiping a mop across the floor. His name tag, slightly askew on his chest, read Bob.
Kojo groaned as he leaned against the wall, using a nearby door handle to prop himself up. His gaze flicked to the janitor's mop, then to the trail of blood behind him.
"So, you must be Bob," Kojo said dryly, his voice laced with irritation.
Bob raised an eyebrow, looking at the crimson mess. "That trail of blood isn't going to be easy to clean."
Kojo gave a humorless laugh. "Yeah, why don't you get to that while I make my way out of here?"
"I'm afraid that's not going to be possible, sir," Bob replied with surprising calm. "You shall not take any further steps."
Kojo arched a brow, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "Yeah, that'd make sense if I was walking. Hate to break it to you, but I got here by some weird snake-crawling technique. And for the record, your floor is filthy. Some janitor you turned out to be."
He smirked, shaking his head. "Look, Old Man Bob, just let me go. This doesn't need to get any bloodier than it already is."
Bob remained unfazed. "No."
Kojo's smirk widened into an arrogant grin. "Oh yeah? Whatcha gonna do, mop the floor with me?"
The grin vanished when Bob did exactly that. The janitor surged forward, using his mop to send Kojo sliding across the slick tiles. Kojo yelped as he was pushed and dragged down the hallway, through the stairwell, and into another corridor, Bob expertly maneuvering him like a dust rag.
The Boss of the tainted sat behind an imposing desk, barking orders at a group of subordinates. His voice echoed through the room, sharp and commanding.
"I don't care how long it takes you. Search every square inch of this place until you find them. We cannot let that bounty get out of our hands!"
"Yes, sir!" the subordinates replied in unison before quickly dispersing.
As they exited, a figure stumbled in from another corridor—Vanessa. Her appearance was a mess, her face pale and streaked with dirt, her clothes torn in places.
The Boss rose abruptly from his chair, his eyes narrowing as he took in her disheveled state. Concern glimmered across his face, though his voice remained sharp.
"I must say, daughter of mine, I'm rather disappointed." he expressed.
Vanessa didn't respond immediately, her breathing labored and her eyes darting nervously around the room.
"It wasn't my intention to have him escape. You know that, Father."
"True. But he was your responsibility. I expected better." he countered.
"I don't see what the issue is. His body is a wreck. There's no way he's going to escape the facility."
"You underestimate him. That man, has the most endurance I've ever seen in a human. Those injuries may slow him down, but they won't stop him."
"What do you suggest I do, Father?"
The Boss paced slowly around his desk; his hands clasped tightly behind his back. Vanessa stood silently, her disheveled state contrasting with the sharp defiance in her eyes.
"What I suggest," the Boss began, his voice cutting through the tense silence, "is that you fix this disaster you've caused."
Vanessa's fists clenched at her sides. "Father, I did my job. I broke him. He can barely move, let alone fight. He's no threat to us."
The Boss stopped in his tracks, turning to face her. His eyes were sharp, cold. "No threat?" His tone dripped with disbelief. "He's the most wanted mercenary on this side of the continent. Do you have any idea what people like him do when cornered?"
Vanessa bristled, but kept her tone calm. "The bounty won't go anywhere. He won't make it out of the facility in his state. Let the guards sweep the area. They'll find him."
The Boss's expression hardened. "You put too much faith in our guards. They're soldiers, Vanessa, not hunters. They don't understand what someone like Kojo is capable of. He didn't survive this long on luck."
Vanessa opened her mouth to retort but thought better of it. She shifted uneasily under his gaze. "Then what do you want me to do?"
The Boss moved to his desk, pulling out a sleek tracking device and placing it on the surface. Its small light blinked steadily.
"This," he said, tapping the device, "is our solution. We implanted it during the initial interrogation. It's designed to activate when his adrenaline spikes—when he's pushed beyond his limits. That moment is now."
Vanessa stepped closer, her eyes narrowing at the device. "You've had a tracker on him this whole time, and you're only bringing it up now?"
The Boss leaned forward, his voice growing cold. "Because it wasn't time until now. He's desperate, Vanessa. He's bleeding, tired, and running out of options. Desperation makes him predictable."
Vanessa snorted. "So you expect me to just track him down, toss him back into a cell, and call it a day?"
"No," the Boss said firmly. "There's no tossing him anywhere. The bounty is conditional. Alive, he's worth a fortune. In his current state, his value is rapidly declining."
Vanessa hesitated, her brows furrowing. "You're saying he's a write-off? After all the trouble we went through to capture him?"
The Boss straightened; his gaze unrelenting. "The bounty isn't worth jeopardizing the rest of our operation. If you can recover him alive, fine. But if not—" His voice dropped, heavy with authority. "You end it. Quickly and cleanly. Do I make myself clear?"
Vanessa stared at him, her jaw tightening. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air. "Crystal."
"One more thing," the Boss added as she turned toward the door. "He's not alone. The girl is still out there."
Vanessa scoffed. "The girl? She's just dead weight. A liability, not an asset."
"You're wrong. She's managed to evade our men for this long; all that with her being a mere mortal." the Boss countered. "She must be cunning, resourceful, and willing to take risks. That makes her dangerous. Together, they'll be harder to corner. Don't underestimate her, Vanessa."
Vanessa exhaled sharply; her frustration thinly veiled. "Fine. I'll handle it."
The Boss's voice followed her as she stepped into the hallway. "Remember, Vanessa—failure is not an option. If you let him slip through your fingers again, it won't just be his bounty we lose."
Vanessa glanced over her shoulder, her eyes burning with determination. "I won't fail."
The door closed behind her, leaving the Boss alone. He sank back into his chair, his gaze fixed on the tracker's blinking light. The stakes were higher than ever, and he wouldn't let this slip away.
The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the labyrinthine streets as Roland and Petra moved in tandem, their steps swift but calculated. The air between them was tense. They were on the hunt, and their quarry was none other than Kojo.
"I find it hard to believe that scoundrel slipped away from Vanessa," Petra muttered, her voice laced with irritation as they turned a corner.
Roland's expression was thoughtful. "Maybe we undermined his capabilities. The King's Men wouldn't place such a high bounty on him if he weren't worth the trouble."
Petra snorted. "That's one way of looking at it."
Roland hesitated, glancing at her. "What are we going to do if we run into him?"
Petra's response was immediate and fierce. "Beat the shit out of him."
Roland visibly recoiled, his face paling. "What's wrong?" Petra asked, unimpressed with his facial expression "You look like you've seen a ghost."
She followed his gaze and froze. Standing a few feet away was Kojo, bloodied and battered, clutching the equally bloodied form of Bob. The sight hit Petra like a physical blow.
"Grandpa Bob..." she whispered, her voice cracking. A memory surfaced—Bob's wrinkled hands stirring a pot of stew, the smell of home enveloping her. The memory brought a rush of emotions: sorrow, rage, and an overwhelming need for vengeance.
Her grip tightened, and her voice rose in a feral roar. "DIE!"
Petra slid a ring onto her finger, the gemstone glowing with an otherworldly radiance. Her body shifted, her stance lowering into a predatory crouch. "Feline instincts," she hissed. For a fleeting moment, the astral form of a giant cat loomed behind her, its piercing eyes reflecting her fury. Then she was gone—ricocheting off the walls.
Before Kojo could react, Petra bypassed him entirely and snatched Bob from his grasp. She landed beside Roland, cradling Bob's unconscious body. Tears shimmered in her eyes as she thrust the injured man into Roland's arms. "Tend to his wounds," she ordered, her voice unyielding. "I'll make mincemeat of this chico."
Kojo raised a hand in mock protest, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Can't an injured man catch a break?" He pointed weakly at Bob. "By the way, he started it."
Petra's lip curled. "And I'll be sure to finish it."
She made her advance. Kojo stumbled backward, his injuries rendering him defenseless. When he collapsed, he attempted to crawl away, his arm dragging his broken body inch by agonizing inch.
Petra smirked. "You're mine now."
She leapt into the air, claws gleaming, ready to deliver a killing blow. But out of nowhere, a metallic bat swung through the air, forcing her to twist mid-flight. She somersaulted backward, landing in a crouch as her eyes locked onto the newcomer.
Standing protectively over Kojo was Blessing, the bat resting casually on her shoulder. She peered down at Kojo, her face contorting in feigned distress. "Yikes, you don't look so good."
Kojo groaned. "She said, stating the obvious. Of course I don't look good. I got tortured by a sexy maniac, beat up by an old janitor, and almost got sliced and diced by a less comic-accurate Cat-woman."
Blessing chuckled. "Rough day, mate. Good thing I made it in time."
"Yup," Kojo wheezed. "You know what they always say. Better late than never."
Blessing rolled her eyes. "So, what am I dealing with?"
Kojo gestured weakly at Petra. "The female's quick and agile. Might give you some trouble. The dude's mostly a spectator."
Petra pulled herself up, talons still shining. "Move aside, chica. I have no quarrel with you. I only want that bastardo."
Blessing's smile was razor-sharp. "Sorry, love. If he dies, so do I. And there's no way I'm letting that happen."
"Bold words," Petra growled. "Let's see if you're still brave when I'm through with you."
Blessing's stance shifted, her grip on the bat tightening. "Looks like we're about to find out."
Petra rolled her neck and stretched her arms above her head. Her frame flowed like a phantom, folding into a crouch as quiet as a whisper of death. Blessing watched Petra with an unflinching gaze, bracing herself for what was to come. Before she could take another breath, Petra vanished.
A gust of wind rushed past Blessing's face, too fast for her to react. Her heart raced as she caught sight of Petra reappearing behind her.
"Almost too easy," Petra murmured, her eyes locking onto Kojo.
She darted toward him, lightning-fast, her movements almost a blur. But Blessing's instincts kicked in. Her left leg shot out in a high arc, aiming directly for Petra. The strike forced Petra to leap backward, rebounding off the wall with uncanny agility. Within moments, she stood right in front of Blessing again.
"It appears you're quicker than I had thought," Petra said, her voice indicating grudging respect.
Blessing held her bat upright, keeping her stance steady. "I could say the same about you."
Petra's smirk deepened. "Chica, I'm much faster than you could possibly imagine."
Before Blessing could respond, Petra disappeared once more. Blessing spun around, her eyes falling to where Kojo had been, only to find the space empty. A sinking feeling gripped her as she turned back. Petra stood a few feet away, gripping Kojo by the neck.
"Wha—"Blessing's voice faltered.
Petra's eyes glinted with mischief. "Like I said, much faster."
Kojo, despite the precarious position, managed a sardonic smile. "Well, we've got quite the situation, haven't we?"
"You think?" Blessing snapped, her voice tinged with frustration.
Kojo's neon grin widened. "Any chance you've got some hidden superpowers you'd like to showcase?"
Blessing groaned. "I wish. I'm still new to all of this."
Kojo sighed dramatically. "Damn. Consider us both dead, then."
Petra chuckled, the sound dark and menacing. She tilted her head, addressing Kojo with mock curiosity. "How would you like to die? A hole through the chest? A slit across the throat?"
Kojo's tone remained light, even in the face of danger. "If I'm being honest, I'd prefer staying alive. But if you're set on killing me, I'd suggest a quick and painless option."
Petra laughed, the sound echoing through the space. "Hahaha… Quick and painless? You're hilarious, chico."
Before she could make her next move, a voice interrupted.
"Don't go too far, Petra. Boss says we still need him alive." Roland stepped into the room, his tone calm but firm.
Petra rolled her eyes, "I'll just tell the Boss there was a little accident. An unforeseen misfortune."
Kojo was beyond disappointed. "Man, you are a terrible little minion."
Petra's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Watch your tongue, chico. I hold your life in the balance."
"Not for long, you don't." Kojo confidently responded.
His focus shifted to Blessing. "Blessing, be a dear and close your eyes."
She blinked, confused. "Huh?"
"Just do it!" he barked.
Though unsure, Blessing obeyed, squeezing her eyes shut. For a moment, there was nothing but darkness. Then a strange, low hum filled the air, followed by a rush of heat.
"You can open them now," Kojo's voice called.
When Blessing opened her eyes, the room was unrecognizable. Ash swirled in the air, coating the ground in a fine gray powder. Petra and Roland were nowhere to be seen.
"What on earth did you do?" she demanded, her voice trembling.
Kojo dusted off his hands, his expression unreadable. "Less talk, more action. We need to find a way out of here."
Blessing stepped forward. "Need a little help?"
Kojo glanced at her with mock exasperation. "Nah, I'd be fine crawling on the ground." He paused, "Of course I need a little help!"
Blessing sighed but extended her hand. Together, they moved toward the door, their steps quickened by the uncertainty of what might come next.
Before they could leave, a commanding voice echoed through the room, freezing them in their tracks.
"Hold it right there!"
The duo turned sharply, their eyes landing on Vanessa as she strode into the room, flanked by two heavily armed guards. The guards' weapons were trained steadily on Kojo and Blessing, leaving no room for negotiation.
"Vanessa," Kojo muttered under his breath.
Her lips curved into a cold smile. "Running off so soon? I'm afraid I can't allow that. You've caused quite the mess, and the Boss doesn't take kindly to loose ends."
Blessing instinctively stepped protectively close to Kojo. "What do you want?" she asked.
"Oh, nothing much. Just your cooperation… or your surrender. Either works for me."
Kojo observed the guards, calculating, then back to Vanessa. "You know, Vanessa, this really isn't a good time. Maybe we could schedule this for, I don't know, never?"
Vanessa chuckled softly; the sound devoid of warmth. "Always the comedian, Kojo. But no, I'm afraid this ends now."
At her subtle signal, the guards stepped forward, their weapons radiating ominously. Vanessa raised a hand, halting them mid-step.
"I'd prefer if you came quietly," she said, her tone calm yet menacing. "But if you insist on making this difficult…" She paused, letting the unspoken threat hang in the air like a loaded gun. "I won't hesitate."
Kojo and Blessing exchanged looks, their minds racing as they silently assessed their options. The odds were grim, the tension suffocating, but neither of them looked ready to back down. If this was going to end here, it wouldn't be without a fight.