Page 47 of Ashfall
Two vehicles are parked inside the gates, but they're empty upon my approach. My heartbeat trips over itself as I wonder if either one belongs to my father. I push towards the gate, noticing the chains that kept away any unwanted visitors have been breached, the padlock lying forgotten in the gravelly grass. My hands wrap around the cold metal surface, slowly creeping the gate open, but the metal creaks wildly and the wind carries the sound, the reverberation yawning into the wide open space.There goes my stealthy entrance. I'm not sure why I tried to execute one. I’m defenseless against the unknown, all I have ismy mind and my hands. And whilst they haven’t let me down before, this might be my biggest challenge yet.
The broken, iron-barred windows reveal the darkness inside the old factory. Glass lies scattered from the missing fractions around the frames. There's only one entry door ahead, its once white emulsion now yellowed and tattered by the salt air that’s peeled away from the sea. A large grey, overhead coiling door dominates the center, and I drift my feet towards it, noticing its lifted just a couple inches above the ground. A faint glow smokes out from beneath it, and I crouch on all fours to get a glimpse inside.
My body tenses when I see my father's boots about thirty feet away from me, still strapped to the chair and not moving. My panicked eyes dart around between the slits, trying to identify any other movements. I can't, but I'm no fool. Graves will be hiding in the shadows, waiting for his moment to pounce. I push my feet, stones dented into my knees and hands from the gravel, along with sharp shards of bricks that have fallen from the exterior building. A sudden force sears my palm into the ground, a black leather boot pressing into my skin, causing the debris beneath to pierce into me. I’m yanked up by my hair, and I throw my elbow into their gut. A'woof'of air brushes over the shell of my ear as I turn, but there’s a second individual. Dressed in black with a mask only revealing his menacing eyes, a rifle in his hand.
A thick, Russian accent is punched around his words, making me grind my molars as he bites out “Move.” The guard I injured grips me by my hood, throwing me forward towards the door. My hand reaches out to wrap around the handle, forming a fist as it trembles with the adrenaline coursing through me.You can do this Nyx. And I will, for my dad. Even if it means giving my life for his, and that Noc might hate me for it.
My heart pounds out a rhythmic ache, while thoughts fill my mind of how I might end up breaking our promise, that he'll need to wander the rest of this life without me. But I couldn't live with myself if I allowed Graves to take another person I care for. And If I die, so does Graves. A stone clatters from the sky above me, and my eyes glance to the roof to see another masked man, gun in hand, staring down at me like a peasant at his feet. His gaze lifts over the vast area beyond, and I follow it. A host of silhouettes mirroring the one on the roof now line the perimeter, edging out from the tree line. Graves has this place locked down.
I turn back to face the door, forcing down a swallow as I heave it open with both hands, a high-pitched metallic squeal echoing as the door grinds against the hinges - may as well make an entrance. My mother always did. My trainers crunch over the various fragments littered across the floor, the only sound in the room as I approach. I edge around a steel beam, and the sight before me roots me to the middle of the floor. Seeing it through a screen was one thing, but with my own eyes, it wrenches a blade through my chest.
Dad’s head is slumped forward, his denim jacket soaked through with blood from the fresh wound, right at an area his vest wouldn’t protect. I rush forward, collapsing at his feet as my hands grip his knees to shake him. “Dad.” My voice breaks, and I swallow down the bursting damn of emotions evoked by seeing him. I bite my tongue at the sob that wants to penetrate straight from my heart.
I’ve never seen him in a state like this. He has been hit from behind, likely upon entry. He also doesn't answer me, doesn’t react to my voice, and my blood stills at the unwelcome thoughts prowling the back of my mind. “Dad, It’s Brodie.” His breathing is deep, almost like he's sleeping. When I was younger, I used to sneak up on him when he was taking a nap. I never managed to scare him, because he always knew. Was always aware ofhis surroundings and someone approaching him. The fact that he isn't answering sends a glacial chill through me. I hold his head up and use my other hand to lift his eye lid. His eyes look glossy and unfocussed.He's been drugged. I check over his neck frantically, until I notice a small red mark, irritation over the skin where he's been injected.
I reach around to check his bindings where his hands are cable tied. The chair is also bolted to the floor, the metal clamp bright and un-scuffed. Graves has been here for a while, but the minerals of the bolts still radiate that shiny newness. My dad isn't fully restrained, which can only mean he's had a large dose, and combined with the head and shoulder wound - Graves isn’t looking at him as a threat. My ears instantly tense, pulling back to the sound of footsteps thumping behind me. Tiny needles start to prickle all over my back.There's two sets.
One belongs to someone heavier, taller. And the others are lighter. I stand to my full height, fists cutting crescent moons into my palms as I stare down at father. Vengeance. That’s what's strumming through my veins. Graves has gotten him here, weakened him, and a lethal spike of anger rises around me, white heat now vibrating in my bones. I shift to face Graves, but stop mid-way as I take in the spectacle. He stands tall, still in his military jacket, a smug look across his face. He puffs his chest out, hands clasping behind his back as the smile grows wider at my realization. My eyes zone in on his accomplice. Natalia.
She's dressed exactly how I normally do. The all-black tactical gear, right down to the fucking boots. But the newest addition is the hair. She wears long, dark locks, mirroring my own in shade and length. She peels the wig off her head, shaking out her wild blonde hair from beneath, making it look unhinged as her wild eyes glare at me with hatred, a snarl so hard on her expression, she looks a second away from growling. Her hand reaches down, pulling off a prosthetic scar along her wrist.
It all pieces together, the fragments fusing rapidly in my mind. Graves has used her to lure my father here, faking the outfit, hair and scar - just to add to the realism. She throws the latex at my feet and it lands with a sick slap on the concrete floor between us. It's the only sound to cut through the air as we stand staring at each other, while the tension soars between our trigon stance.
It’s the final straw for my inner demon. A faintclicksounds in my head as she's released from her cage, into the wilderness. A sinister grin spreads across my face, the coldness within the factory walls draws itself to me, allowing me to channel who I need to be. “You can try to be me all you want Natalia, he'll still never love you.” Her expression falters, wiping that idiotic smirk clean off as she lunges forward.
Graves throws his hand out across her chest, catching her. “You'll have your time with her,” he grumbles, and her jaw clenches as she glares at me from head to toe. Graves edges forward, but I don’t move a muscle. I hold my ground steady and firm, daring for him to get closer, my cheeks burning with the smile I keep plastered on it. Not letting either of them think for a second that there’s an ounce of fear in my body.
“I’m here, Graves.” My hands splay out wide, rotating myself in a full circle, showing him my back as a dent to his ego that he’s not a threat to me. “Let him go, you have no need for him. I’m here.” His laugh booms across the room, feeling the vibrations whip back to ripple my ear drum. “Now, where would be the fun in that? No. I'm going to have you watch while the life leaves his eyes. And then, we’re going to take you to your new home, and you’re going to be a good little pet from there on out.” His words chafe the lining of my stomach, causing it to contract, my eyes grazing the two of them as he turns his head over his shoulder, nodding to Natalia.
She marches towards me, gripping hold of my arm, and I allow a small tether of control to snap. My elbow jerks upwards, in a fluid movement that cracks her nose. She backs away, blood gushing from her fingers as she clutches them to her face.Fuck that felt good. “I bet I’ve made you your plastic surgeon’s favorite customer recently.” I taunt her, keeping my tone full of boredom. I’m ready to reach her again, but my hands freeze midway, the click of a gun severing through my motor function.
Graves lazily holds the Glock, visible now that he’s untucked his hands from behind him. “You touch her one more time and this bullet goes right between daddy's eyes.” My eyes focus on his gun as I grind my jaw, and I reluctantly pull away. Natalia grips a fistful of my hair, yanking me to her front. She saunters us over to a metal beam, shoving me the best she can against it as I whip round to face her. She curls a claw, tucking a piece of my hair behind my ear, and I fight with every fiber of my being not to break her neck, hands fisting at my sides. I could kill her in less than a second - easily. But Graves's gun burns like a warning in my peripheral, and I won't be quick enough to stop a bullet.
Natalia’s breath fans loose hair across my face as she leans in to murmur. “You took something very precious to me, now watch me take something of yours.” My eyes are locked to my dad, and I telepathically scream for him to wake up, to show any signs of life. But my calls go unanswered. I lazily drag my gaze to hers, the need to torment her strong. To keep her distracted until I can gather some form of plan.
“Did you practice that in the mirror this morning?” That sets her off, and she slams my head against the pillar with a scorching thud. A laugh barks out of me, meeting her glare and lowering my voice so only she can hear. “You know, your brother had me in this exact same position.” I lean in closer, so that my lips brush her ear, her breathing rapidly increasing as she fightsto control herself. “Right before I dragged my knife along his neck and watched him bleed to death.”
My vision temporarily blurs as she throws her fist into my temple. I'll give it to her, Natalia can punch better than she can shoot. She grabs me by the collar of my hoodie, pulling me back to eye level so she can hiss in my face. “The only reason I never killed you in the club is because you're going to earn me a lot of money. I'm going to whore you out so bad, Nocturne won’t even want to look at you.” Annoyance licks its sticky tongue along my skin at the mention of his name on her lips.
But before I can throw another insidious insult back at her, the radio on her belt crackles to life, static cracking and voices battling their way through it. Rushed words are spat in rapid fire Russian, and Graves comes pounding over as she listens intently. The radio continues to fade in and out, and she clicks the receiver several times as an angry groan drawls past her lips. I have no idea what’s being said, and going by the tightness of Graves face, he's struggling to work it out too with the tempo she rattles her own words out.
Natalia turns to head for the door, calling out “I'll go check.” But Graves grips her by the arm, pulling her back towards him, placing the gun in her hand. He wraps her fingers around it, like he’s just given her the key to the forbidden city. “I'll go. You keep an eye on her. If she moves, shoot him. If she touches you… make sure not to get her in the thigh.” My toes curl at his sadistic jab towards Blitz.Fucking Breathe, Nyx. My fists flex at my back to release the built-up tension soaring to the surface. Natalia looks down at the gun, then back to me. I huff a humorless laugh. “You should be careful with that. Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself, I've seen your aim—” My words are replaced with a forced exhale as she slams her fist into my gut, then whips the gun across my cheek.
I drop to the floor, a feral groan rumbling through my chest.Fuck this.My muscles tense, itching towards breaking that same hand she used against me, when the bite of the familiar steel presses into my collarbone, Natalia forcing me to follow it back to the ground. I want to disarm her, but I don’t want to risk a stray bullet hitting my dad with how tightly she has her fingers wrapped around it, and the wall beside us is in a metal casting. It could ricochet. Her other hand reaches back, pulling a knife from her belt, the metal winking at me as it reflects from the overhead light. She brings it to my neck, dragging it down the side with enough pressure, that I feel the hot liquid running down my skin and into my hoodie.
She still has the gun compressed firmly against my bone, and my teeth grind that I've let myself get into such an exposed position, but there’s too much at stake. Too many fucking risks and nothing screaming out at me to solve them. She leans over to my other side, undoubtedly turning my neck into a canvas. Her hand drags the sharp paintbrush along my neck, and down the other side. It’s not deep enough to kill me, but the knife is sharp enough to slice through the first layer of skin. My eyes flick up to my dad, and I stiffen. He's not there.
I force my breathing to steady, my face remaining indifferent as my eyes focus downwards. My blood drips in small, rain-like splatters across the ground from the razored edge. Natalia yanks the sleeve of my hoodie up my arm, no hesitation as she digs the knife into my unscarred arm, pulling down and stopping just above my veins. “Can't have you missing out on all the fun.” She pulls the sleeve back down, tapping her approval of her masterpiece. “When you look at these, you’ll be reminded you have the mark of a Volokov.” The blood seeps from my arm as she squeezes it tight, my fingers now coated in it as she glares at me. The pain doesn’t even register as white hot rage burns in me, coiling me like a cobra ready to strike.
She swings the knife at my face, and my control is obliterated. My hand shoots out, throwing the gun hand in the air, shots piercing the roof. My leg springs up and boots her in the chest, sliding the gun from her grip as I send her flying back with a thump. Her skull cracks off the ground and it sends a sickening thrill of satisfaction through my veins. Like an addict that's been lurking around their fix, and they’ve finally caved to its call.
I rise to my feet to loom over to her, aiming the gun as I pick the knife up. My finger skims the trigger at the same time the ground rumbles beneath my feet. A large explosion thunders around us. The lights quiver above us, dirt and dust drift from the walls and ceiling, trickling over us and filling the space in a gritty haze. Natalia’s wild eyes search the room, and a guard comes rushing in, calling out to her. I raise the gun and fire two shots whilst keeping my gaze locked on her. He crashes to the floor mid sprint, slumping in a heap at her feet, bullets pierced through his eye and forehead and thick red liquid starts to pool around him.Aim as sharp as a fucking tack.
She scrambles backwards on her hands; that earlier cockiness has now evaporated, her wide eyes staring at me, pathetically pleading with mine. I lazily wander towards her, gun hanging loose at my side as I twist the knife in the other. Her eyes dart to each of the weapons and it summons a villainous, sinister smile to my face. I can smell the fear radiating from her. “I’ll give you a head start Natalia,” I say, watching the dread spread across her as I whisper. “Run.” She scurries to her feet, but as soon as she turns, she’s blocked by a rock solid form - one cladded in black tactical gear.
She clutches him, arms trembling and eyes tearing up as she stares at his hooded and shadowed face. Muffled bullets begin a harmony from all around us, and the dark figure drags the hood from his head, then tugs the mask from around his mouth.My smile only grows. Noc has a forbidding gleam in his eye as he stares down at her, disgust curling his lip into a sneer as she presses her trembling body to him. “Nocturne,” her whisper drips with hysteria. “Please.”
His eyes drag from her to meet mine, like magnets instantly finding the source who commands them. They continue their bone idle stroll, taking in my neck, wrist and the blood covered grey material that sticks to my body. His jaw ticks as his zone back to her. “What size are you?” His words have goosebumps erupting all over my arms. Anyone listening in would think he was casually browsing clothes, but I recognize the dark undertone.
