Don't Call Me Angel

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Chapter 1

Side warning: I'll be including some sensitive topics that may trigger memories or something, so if you know you will be uncomfortable, please skip this part or do not read at all.

***

Rape!

At the thought of it, my eyes snapped open. This time, I saw clearly, I saw a man 'working' around my chest area. With a flick of his wrist, the buttons on my cloth came off, and I felt a sharp sting.

I held in a breath and heaved out when I realised the pain came from my stomach. His blade had only tore through my cloth and nicked my skin. Upon noticing that I was awake, he caught my gaze and grinned a crooked smile before saying something in a language I didn't understand, and then he burst out laughing. I could tell that he didn't say anything good. He brought the knife to my neck in a manner that anyone could understand; I swallowed my spit, it was a crystal clear threat.

Under this kind of circumstance, 95% of females would start panicking.

But for me? I willed myself to remain calm on the outside and maintain my gaze while I struggled behind my back to get rid of the knots on my wrists. The obscure man pulled me closer by my thigh to the edge of the chair, unknown to him, he was granting me more space to fiddle with the knots. Though I didn't struggle against him, I moved my face to the side when he attempted to kiss me, causing him to miss. As a consequence of my refusal, he slashed at my right knee and aggressively joined our lips. I bit down until I tasted blood and he withdrew forcefully.

Slap! Though I was prepared for it, it didn't change anything. The slap caused my face to the other side and I spat out blood, I hoped that it was more of his than mine. The blade dug deeper into my thigh. I ground my teeth holding back the urge to scream in pain. I didn't want to give him that satisfaction.

This time, he didn't immediately go for the goal, he splattered sloppy kisses on my searing cheeks. He gripped my thighs to pull me more closer, probably so that I would lean on him, and I felt the bulge in his pants. I lifted my right thigh where his thumb was pressing onto my wound and he groaned out of what seemed to be his sound of pleasure. He tightened his grip and the knife sliced yet another part of my thigh. Honestly, and obviously, none of that wasn't my intention. I desperately struggled to loosen the rope that was also digging into my wrists. My toes tipped up unintentionally as I struggled, and this time, I was sure what he let out was a moan.

I heard the clang of metal hitting the floor but he was far too gone to notice. I moved my toes around, I know, it came off as grinding, but it was to search for the knife. I pushed my foot backwards, and then he gripped my open wound and went on to nip on my earlobe.

"Motherfuckǝr!" I didn't hold back. I bit on his ear and I didn't let go.

"Argh...!" I ignored his cries and bit harder until I tasted blood, still, I didn't let go. His head followed me whenever I tugged and wagged my head to prevent his ear from getting bit off.

He pushed me and I fell along with the chair to the side and hit my head on the ground. Luckily, I didn't blackout, my vision darkened for a second before the room started spinning. I trailed my fingers in search of the blade as the tempo of my heart rate increased. I feared not that the man would recover— he was groaning on the ground in pain and holding his bleeding ear; but that, someone would walk in while I was still bound to the chair by the annoying knots.

I jinxed it.

A man walked in at that moment, though he was initially startled by the scene, he immediately recovered. Unsurprisingly, he didn't call for help because he thought he could handle me. He charged in. There was no way for me to move because I was still tied to the fucking chair so I could only lie still. When he came close, I sent my leg flying to his groin. He made a face before falling to his knees and onto my body. He recovered soon after and held my neck in a chokehold. My fingers grazed something cold while I struggled to get out of his vice grip— for the record, I didn't succeed, if anything, me struggling acted as an incentive for him to tighten his hold, so I stopped struggling and concentrated on grabbing the knife. I finally managed to get the knife in my hand, the only hassle was to cut the many layers of rope before I pass out from suffocation. That would be the end. I blinked my eyes continuously and I opened my mouth to get in oxygen. The man smirked evilly before unleashing the full potential of his two-handed chokehold. Spit bubbles were made in my mouth and my eyes started rolling back.

With a swipe, blood splashed on my face, and it took only a few moments for his grip to have a loose hold, and then his limp body threatened to suffocate mine. Meanwhile, I gasped as air regained its momentum back into my windpipe but it is blocked by the bloody spit in my mouth. It turned into a coughing fit as I tried to spit all the blood out. I pushed the dead man's body off of me to get my breathing space and I sat up with a start and spluttered the residue of blood in my mouth.

Then I got up. I stumbled over to the sexual predator while I massaged my sore neck and rubbing the smear of blood with the back of my dominant hand that held the knife.

The perverted man was hanging on to consciousness by a loose thread, he looked like he was going to pass out due to excessive loss of blood. However, when he saw me with the knife in his hand, his eyes held fear.

"Not. Goin'. Kill. You." I sounded like a caveman. My sour throat made it so. Because of that, I couldn't finish the words I wanted to say to him. Whatever he would find out on his own. I cleared my throat and spat on him, then I knelt down beside him.

Which one first? Hennie, Minnie, Mannie, Mo! I took his three fingers in my hand and he started yelling. Impressive! The knife really is impressive.

"Shh..." I hushed as I moved on to my next target: his thighs. I pressed the tip hard to his skin that blood immediately appeared, alongside a long gash as I moved the knife to the other end of his thigh. I did that for a total of six times while I moved upwards at each cut.

Well, well, well.

The man finally stopped screaming and passed out of shock. I smirked. It wouldn't change what I was about to do to him. If he wakes up, he would wish I killed him... He better pray that he doesn't wake up.

I also made sure he would also be unable to kill himself by chopping off the fingers on his other hand. Blood splattered on my face. I heard footsteps and I looked up. I was sure that I looked psychotic— or like a sociopath, my eyes itched red with blood-thirst.

The moment the next man appeared at the door, I threw the knife. Bullseye. I limped over and attempted to remove the knife from his skull, but it was stuck. Without waiting to think, I jumped on the next man and we hit the wall and I snapped his neck. The impact drew another's attention to the hall. Down the hall, the man kept pulling the trigger without stop and I used the unconscious man as a meat shield while I searched the man's back pocket for something I could use as a defence. We dropped to the ground a second after the bullets stopped firing.

I played dead as a decoy and waited patiently for my inquisitive prey to take the bait and draw closer. Then I swiped. After tripping him, I jumped on him and held his neck. He reached out and attempted to force his fingers into my eyes so I moved my head back and evaded his attempt. Then he tried to push me off using his knees so I took the easier way out and snapped his neck. I breathe heavily at the physical exertion and could only spare some seconds to regain a steady breathing pattern because I was working against time itself. Any second now, the backups drawn in by the gunshots would be here and I couldn't let that happen. I rummaged through his pocket and found a small switchblade. So I granted him a quick death. I turned to my former meat shield to properly search his body and I actually found a pistol in his front pocket. This made things a whole lot easier. I checked to see how many bullets I was to work with before I continued on my way.

This place was a freaking maze! At every turn, people, that I had to loot for guns each time the mags emptied out. And it was a good thing I didn't lose my touch, otherwise...

My actions turned mechanical. I just needed to find my way out of here. I immediately leaned back on the wall. Whew, that was a close call! Breathing heavily, I peeked into the room.

What was this place?

I mean I have a rough idea considering what I almost went through, but was this a safehouse or a hideout? Based on the number of girls I spotted in the room by a mere glance, this place could easily pass off as a prostitution zone. I took another glance to know the headcount I'm up against. I checked the remaining rounds of the bullet. Not enough.

People never wait for their turns and come at a person one at a time. This was real life, and life wasn't fair nor considerate. It was impossible to take them all at once, it was a suicide mission even. I leaned my head to rest on the wall as I thought about what to do. I noticed someone watching me so I tilted my head and caught a young girl watching me. I brought my index finger to my lips as I moved backwards and retraced my steps in the search for more bullet rounds.

When I was rummaging through the pockets of a dead man, I found something better...or it lured me. It was the sound of a phone ringing from the pocket of the man lying in front of the one I knelt over. Of course, I changed targets. I answered the call and listened to the words, though, I couldn't understand.

I choked out one word, "...dead."

Then I dropped the phone and eyed the revolver I just found. Damn... How did I miss this guy?

With two guns in hand, I felt more confident. The girl saw me the moment I came back, I guess she was constantly checking for me. I nodded at her and raised a gun to my lips, then I pointed at the wall in front of me. It was a gesture of whether people were on the other side of the wall. She shook her head. I wasn't sure if there was a miscommunication between us but I was willing to take the risk. I demonstrated with my hands over my head meaning she should take cover, then I started counting.

Three... Two seconds later, I excluded a finger rounding the total to two. Before I could signal 'one', the girl ran from where she sat.

Great! Just great.

I immediately withdrew from the area.

I knew they would come, after all, curiosity always kills the cat. The moment a man's head showed, I pulled the trigger, the shot rang out before it hit him, however, the bullet flew too fast for him to react. A second later, he dropped dead, and numerous shots followed, continuously, and made holes in the wall that was used as my shield wall before.

I didn't shoot back though I wanted to. To begin with, I had limited ammo to be caught in a crossfire. In simple terms, I was placed at a disadvantage in terms of firearms and manpower so I could only take them out one at a time. And like fishes drawn to bait, they came to it, hook, line and sinker.

A man spotted me and started to utter something in a foreign language. I put a bullet through his head before he could finish calling down the house. But the effect had taken place. A bullet grazed my arm. My hand clamped down on the wound as I slid to the floor, I grunted in pain as the ache triggered all over my body. A bullet flew over my head and missed me by a hairbreadth. Literally.

Well, it brought me back to reality. I revealed myself only to shoot my target, then I took cover next to the wall.

Bang!

The wall exploded near my face. Instinctively, I shielded my eyes and my ear bore the brunt. I covered my ears with my hands to reduce the reverberation on my eardrums.

Memories, flashes of past events surged into my mind. I held my head in my hands from the information dumping. Mission... Bomb... The blast...

Black...

I opened my eyes. A long shadow appeared next to my sitting silhouette on the wall in front of me, fully breaking me out of the reverie. Now is not the time. This wasn't the time. I shifted to the left so he would be unable to see my shadow. The supposed thinking that I was trying to run made him rush after me blindly. Amateur him. Charging in blindly doesn't end well, it never does.

I groaned as I relied on the wall to get up. I dragged my feet back to the wall next to the room opening and peeked in. One man standing. Or pacing. Breathing heavily, I stepped to the centre of the room.

Before he could do anything, a hole imprinted in his head. I didn't stop there, two more shots rang out before it clicked. Man down.

I sighed and I ran my fingers through my tangled knots. I tugged and expanded my fingers to loosen the knots...oh well, it's called tangled for a reason. But this was a tangled mess— I'm not just referring to just my hair. I looked around the room at the frightened girls huddled in the dark corners.

Then I stiffened as men with guns spilt in and formed a defensive line. I pulled the empty case to my front and made a defensive stance too. My ears pricked as I heard footsteps from behind me. Their shouts became more frantic but I couldn't understand shit.

Well, fuck me.

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