The Captain's Rage
The captain sat heavily in his worn-out office chair, his face twisted with anger and confusion. The weight of recent events pressed down on him like a storm cloud. He glared at the sergeant standing stiffly before him, then waved a dismissive hand. "Leave me, Sergeant," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I need to think."
The sergeant snapped a quick salute. "Yes, sir!" Without another word, he turned on his heel and marched out of the office, shutting the door firmly behind him. The moment the latch clicked, the captain's composure shattered. He slammed his fist onto the desk, sending papers flying. "Damn it!" he roared, his voice echoing through the empty room.
Outside the Police Station
The YKC Junction Police Station stood like a fortress in the fading evening light. Though it was a short distance from the bustling park, the station felt isolated, a world of its own. The building was massive, with a wide compound that housed over two hundred officers. Rows of patrol vehicles—more than a hundred and fifty—lined the yard, engines silent but ready to roar into action at a moment's notice.
Six officers stood guard at the entrance, their eyes scanning the quiet streets. The evening was peaceful—until it wasn't.
Without warning, a thick white gas sprayed into the air, swirling around them like a ghostly mist. Before they could react, the officers inhaled the strange fumes. Their eyes widened in shock as their bodies betrayed them. One by one, their legs gave out, and they crumpled to the ground, their guns still clutched in limp hands.
The Attack Begins
As the last rays of the evening sun disappeared, shadows stretched across the station grounds. From the darkness, ten figures emerged. Leading them was Peter, his face hidden behind a black mask, his fists covered in tight black gloves. His men moved like shadows, silent and deadly.
They disarmed the unconscious guards swiftly, tossing the guns aside like useless toys. Without hesitation, they stormed through the front entrance, their footsteps echoing through the halls. Inside, chaos erupted. Officers scrambled to respond, but Peter's men were too fast, too brutal. Fists flew, bodies hit the floor, and the station became a battleground.
Their target was clear: the captain's office.
As they approached the door, a single gunshot rang out. A bullet tore through the wood, missing Peter by inches. He didn't flinch. Instead, he signaled to his men. One of them handed him a bulletproof shield. Without breaking stride, Peter charged forward, smashing the door open with a single powerful kick.
Face to Face
The captain stood ready, his gun aimed squarely at Peter's chest. He fired—once, twice—but the bullets bounced harmlessly off the shield. Peter advanced, his movements smooth and calculated. With a swift motion, he knocked the gun from the captain's hand, sending it clattering across the floor.
Peter dropped the shield and pulled down his mask, revealing a face hardened by years of rage. "Where is he?" he demanded, his voice icy. "Where are my men?"
The captain said nothing. His eyes burned with defiance. Then, to Peter's surprise, the captain tore off his uniform shirt, revealing a body covered in scars and muscle. "Come fight me, criminal," he spat. "If I can't kill you with my gun, I'll kill you with my hands."
Peter took a step back, then smirked. "Fine. At least you'll help me burn off some of this anger."
The captain lunged, his right fist flying toward Peter's face. Peter dodged effortlessly and countered with a crushing left hook. The punch landed hard, but the captain barely flinched. Instead, he grinned, blood trickling from his lip. Before Peter could pull back, the captain seized his wrist and yanked him forward, slamming him into the ground with bone-shaking force.
The impact rattled the entire office. The captain loomed over Peter—a giant of a man, towering and broad, his dark skin marked by years of battle. His thick beard framed a face that had seen too much pain. As he raised his foot to crush Peter's chest, something impossible happened.
Peter vanished.
A split second later, he reappeared behind the captain, his breath steady, his eyes blazing. The fight was far from over.
To Be Continued.....