"No!"
A voice came from behind the audiences. Everyone turned around, the psychopath himself was distracted too. A young adult – a young lady that looked younger than twenty, with almond hair had shouted. She jolted forward as the crowd parted hurriedly to let her pass. Cevil turned around and examined her. He knew it. Despite the current situation, he knew that he had fallen in love the moment he met her. Her almond waterfall braid reached shoulder length. She was small sized, yet tall and had a mature and smart face. She had thin eyebrows which were above her bluish eyes. A thin black bridge – her spectacle – was resting on her nose, supporting two separated lenses in the round rims of her wire-frame glasses. Her nose was perfect size, so were her lips. She was aware that Cevil was staring at her, she nodded briefly at him, and he nodded back dreamily. She was wearing a pair of transparent earrings, seeming to be diamond. A black rope – some sort of necklace, was hanging around her neck. A brown leather satchel was hanging down from her neck. Her simple yellow dress till knee length was covered by an aqua wool jacket, which Cevil found attractive. The pair of brown knee-high boots made from leather she wore had wrapped up her entire calf. The footsteps of the boots filled the hall as she began walking, otherwise, the stadium would be in complete silence.
She had reached the front of the stage, right below the psychopath and beside Cevil, and stopped. The psychopath watched as she stepped forward in silence. Quietly, they gazed at each other for around a minute. Ten thousand pairs of eyes were watching two of them, everyone tried to keep as silent as they could, controlling the volume of their breathing. At this moment, Cevil couldn't keep his eyes off her. He simply had just forgotten about the psychopath with a gun and a bomb. To everyone's surprise, she bowed, "M'Lord, Richie, pleasured to meet you." she said, but in German. Cevil couldn't understand a single word. She smiled and waited for him to reply. The psychopath looked around, then he focused on her again. The stadium remained silent. A smile spread across his face suddenly, "Finally, finally! Someone had finally realized who I am!" he cried out; he had spoken in German now, too. He lowered the gun. Almost everyone heaved a sigh of relief, but some others were still tensed up, watching everything in horror. Mostly everyone had forgotten about the bomb.
"Yes, I know who you are, M'Lord Richie. Can I borrow your gun for a moment?" she requested calmly, still in German. Richie moved forward on the stage, then lowered his body to hand her the gun. She adjusted her hand in mid-air, waiting to be handed the gun. His hand was already reaching hers.
He stopped.
Everyone froze.
She was sweating.
He brought the gun back to himself.
"M'Lord Richie," she said.
Richie looked around nervously, then he stood up, still holding the gun. No one spoke, including her. She was panicking. "M'lord Richie, what would you like to do? Hand me the gun, I'll help you," she said quickly. Richie scanned the hall, then he replied, "I want..." His deadly eyes were watching her. "You." He aimed the gun at her and fired.
Cevil had no idea about what he was doing. As he heard the gunshot, he hurled himself into her, pushing her onto the floor. The next second, he found himself knocked backwards by a strong force and was sent to the ground. Blood splattered on the girl beside him.
Within two seconds, the entire stadium was in a mess. Everyone was scurrying for cover. People started tripping over each other like dominos. Howls and cries could be heard almost every second. Richie did not fire a second time, he stood on the stage, enjoying the chaos before his eyes. There was an ugly spark in Richie's eyes. No one bothered to help Cevil, everyone wanted to leave. Cevil lay on his back, hurting, attempting to get up. Someone ran over him, Cevil was too slow, not managing to get away, the person stepped on his right hand and disappeared in the crowd. He cried in pain, glancing around, searching for Kent who had disappeared. Then he suddenly felt someone helping him up. It was the girl. She slipped her hands beneath his armpit and lifted him up. They hurried to the exit together, Cevil limping.
There was a second gunshot.
It was continued with another few more gunshots.
It happened in front of the crowd, at the door. Cevil couldn't see anything, there were way too many people blocking him. He was glad he wasn't in the crowd, people were pushing and stumbling over each other. The shrieks continued. Just then, a familiar face appeared in the crowd. Cevil tried to register it in his mind, but he was a little too panicked to focus. The familiar face was coming nearer to him, and he realized it was KJ.
It had only been seconds after the first shot was fired, yet it seemed to have been minutes since chaos. KJ managed to leave the crowd and was facing Cevil. Cevil was pressing onto his stomach – the wound, with fresh blood dripping down endlessly. It somehow looked like red paint or ketchup. "How are you?" he yelled, to cover the sound of the crowd. "I'm... I'm well," Cevil managed to stammer. "Why... why are you... here?"
KJ scanned the hall, "I'll take care of the situation," he said grimly, and Cevil saw him hurrying up the stage. Cevil wanted to follow KJ, but the girl held him firmly, "You're hurt," she whispered, this time in English, "You would only be a burden." Richie noticed KJ heading towards his direction and he fired his gun towards KJ. KJ ducked instinctively. It was never a waste – seven years' experience of being a cop. He managed his way up to the stage, avoiding every shot of Richie's. Cevil wanted to dash towards KJ and help, but he was too weak. His legs couldn't hold him anymore. He collapsed onto the floor like a piece of crumpled paper, the girl still helping him. As he fell, Cevil found his purely white shirt dyed red. His eyelids were dropping at the same time. Before it had completely closed, he managed to catch a glimpse of KJ and Richie gripping the gun. Then everything went black.