No Regrets (Danger Prone Final Ending)
(Danger Prone Final Ending)
The boss was enraged, his hands placed neatly on his desk, staring emptily at the door. Steven burst into the room. "Boss! The cameras!" Moments later, the boss found himself with his eyes glued to the monitors, watching Damian enter with his gun. With Andy's gun. "I don't fucking believe it..." He turned away from the monitors, disgusted. "Alright!" he shouted aloud so that everyone in the entire warehouse could hear. "Five thousand dollars to the man that kills this motherfucker and gives us all the peace we deserve!"
Damian's back was pressed against the crate with his eyes closed, the train station entering his thoughts. You stupid shit! You can't hit a fucking target after you've been standing there like some sort of fucking statue for nearly four fucking minutes? He opened his eyes, taking a deep breath. He knew there were dozens of men watching his position at this very moment. The first time, Damian had barely managed to escape with his life, nearly filled full of holes like a cheese grater. He knew that his ordinary life ended when Andy entered into it; by now he knows that he'd been shitting all along like it was another fucking school day.
He edged back, fixing his aim on the metal railing outlining the second floor. He squeezed the trigger. The bullet ricocheted off the rail and smashed into the circuit box on the other side of the warehouse. Then everything became black. Damian emerged from behind the crate, firing off rounds like there was no fucking tomorrow, his eyes used to the dark. The entire building was a blazing firefight in complete darkness, assassin after assassin toppling to their deaths down below. A bullet nearly took his head off as he ducked under a forklift, using it as cover as he killed two more men on the spot. He made a crouching sprint halfway through the warehouse, sending countless to their deaths.
"Get the fucking lights on!" the boss roared. "Use anything! Just kill that motherfucker!" Remembering, he opened a cupboard on the side wall, magnesium flares tumbling out. He cracked several at a time, scattering them all over the warehouse. "You can't hide from me!" Damian was nowhere to be seen. The boss turned to the nearest man, jerking him over by his collar. "Where the fuck is he? Where the fuck is he?" the man shrugged, trying to step away from the enraged man. The boss raised his gun and killed him on the spot. "Useless! You're all fucking useless!" Damian broke out of a wooden crate, a bullet nearly taking off the boss's fuming head. Instead, the bullet glanced off the railing and killed one of the assassins, including the one cowering right behind him. The boss ducked under the doorway for cover, hiding behind his desk to reload his pistol. His men would get him. He was sure of it.
On the contrary, the boss's men had more or less run for their lives, dropping their guns and fleeing the building as fast as they could stumble over each other in search of an exit. Damian decided he wouldn't have to waste any more bullets. Not yet. He stepped inside the boss's room, seething with rage. "I know you're in here! Come out and meet your fucking maker!" His eyes hopped wildly across the broken jumble of furniture and weapons, hoping to find the enemy he had long awaited to kill. No such luck. Until he noticed a small shuffling of feet behind the desk. His gun hand flew up immediately, stepping carefully around the desk. Keeping his gun pointed at the desk, a figure crawled around the other side as he stepped around. "Freeze!" Damian ordered, the red laser-sighting of Andy's gun catching him in the back of the head. The boss froze as ordered, not moving a muscle. Damian's mind screamed for him to pull the trigger but wouldn't do it. He had to savor the moment.
"So why'd you do it?" Damian said, the words dripping from his mouth like acid. The boss edged further back. "I said don't fucking move!" He stopped, his eyes refusing to meet with Damian's. "Do what? Kill Andy?" Damian stepped forward. "You shut the fuck up! You don't even have the right to say that name anymore!" he roared. The boss's back met with the door, finally looking Damian in the eyes. "Don't do this. We both know what she would have wanted." Damian advanced towards him, cocking the gun. "I know what she would have wanted. She would have wanted your brains splattered all over that fucking door." The boss found himself with Andy's gun pressed against his head, the cold metal feeling as dry and unforgiving as death itself. "There's something I must tell you," the boss said, trying his hardest to keep a straight face. "I'm your father." I'm your father? What kind of lame fucking excuse was that? Damian pressed the gun harder against his head, feeling the rage inside him heighten to its peak. "I don't fucking care. You know what else? She's got a bullet with your fucking name on it."
(Danger Prone 2 will also be called "No Regrets")
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Expect a prequel to tie up loose ends! ~comment please~
Damian's back was pressed against the crate with his eyes closed, the train station entering his thoughts. You stupid shit! You can't hit a fucking target after you've been standing there like some sort of fucking statue for nearly four fucking minutes? He opened his eyes, taking a deep breath. He knew there were dozens of men watching his position at this very moment. The first time, Damian had barely managed to escape with his life, nearly filled full of holes like a cheese grater. He knew that his ordinary life ended when Andy entered into it; by now he knows that he'd been shitting all along like it was another fucking school day.
He edged back, fixing his aim on the metal railing outlining the second floor. He squeezed the trigger. The bullet ricocheted off the rail and smashed into the circuit box on the other side of the warehouse. Then everything became black. Damian emerged from behind the crate, firing off rounds like there was no fucking tomorrow, his eyes used to the dark. The entire building was a blazing firefight in complete darkness, assassin after assassin toppling to their deaths down below. A bullet nearly took his head off as he ducked under a forklift, using it as cover as he killed two more men on the spot. He made a crouching sprint halfway through the warehouse, sending countless to their deaths.
"Get the fucking lights on!" the boss roared. "Use anything! Just kill that motherfucker!" Remembering, he opened a cupboard on the side wall, magnesium flares tumbling out. He cracked several at a time, scattering them all over the warehouse. "You can't hide from me!" Damian was nowhere to be seen. The boss turned to the nearest man, jerking him over by his collar. "Where the fuck is he? Where the fuck is he?" the man shrugged, trying to step away from the enraged man. The boss raised his gun and killed him on the spot. "Useless! You're all fucking useless!" Damian broke out of a wooden crate, a bullet nearly taking off the boss's fuming head. Instead, the bullet glanced off the railing and killed one of the assassins, including the one cowering right behind him. The boss ducked under the doorway for cover, hiding behind his desk to reload his pistol. His men would get him. He was sure of it.
On the contrary, the boss's men had more or less run for their lives, dropping their guns and fleeing the building as fast as they could stumble over each other in search of an exit. Damian decided he wouldn't have to waste any more bullets. Not yet. He stepped inside the boss's room, seething with rage. "I know you're in here! Come out and meet your fucking maker!" His eyes hopped wildly across the broken jumble of furniture and weapons, hoping to find the enemy he had long awaited to kill. No such luck. Until he noticed a small shuffling of feet behind the desk. His gun hand flew up immediately, stepping carefully around the desk. Keeping his gun pointed at the desk, a figure crawled around the other side as he stepped around. "Freeze!" Damian ordered, the red laser-sighting of Andy's gun catching him in the back of the head. The boss froze as ordered, not moving a muscle. Damian's mind screamed for him to pull the trigger but wouldn't do it. He had to savor the moment.
"So why'd you do it?" Damian said, the words dripping from his mouth like acid. The boss edged further back. "I said don't fucking move!" He stopped, his eyes refusing to meet with Damian's. "Do what? Kill Andy?" Damian stepped forward. "You shut the fuck up! You don't even have the right to say that name anymore!" he roared. The boss's back met with the door, finally looking Damian in the eyes. "Don't do this. We both know what she would have wanted." Damian advanced towards him, cocking the gun. "I know what she would have wanted. She would have wanted your brains splattered all over that fucking door." The boss found himself with Andy's gun pressed against his head, the cold metal feeling as dry and unforgiving as death itself. "There's something I must tell you," the boss said, trying his hardest to keep a straight face. "I'm your father." I'm your father? What kind of lame fucking excuse was that? Damian pressed the gun harder against his head, feeling the rage inside him heighten to its peak. "I don't fucking care. You know what else? She's got a bullet with your fucking name on it."
(Danger Prone 2 will also be called "No Regrets")
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Expect a prequel to tie up loose ends! ~comment please~
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