Killing Affects (A.F.W)-prologue

by Tarantulust Mon Apr 08, 2019 9:26 am

The night was surprisingly cool for the season of the year. The night air was chilled and moist after the freezing rain that had been hitting the outskirts of the city for what seemed like days on end, making what was once bad weather simply uncomfortable circumstances.

But the man who was dashing through the thought to be abandoned parking garage was not thinking about the weather, nor the cold sweat that made his clothes stick to him in an uncomfortable way. At the moment, all he could think of was running.

Faster and faster, his shoes slapped the cold, rough pavement of the dark garage, relying on only the bright moon light to guide his way through the lot safely. Each step caused a loud echo to ring throughout the lot, drowning out his desperate gulps for air as he pushed on further and further, frantically looking to find a way out of the cinderblock maze.

His name was Minato Hazama, and as he ran harder and faster, footsteps followed him. Multiple sets, all cracking loudly behind him, their chaotic clattering mixing with his frightful noises of fear. Even through the madness, the fleeing man could tell his pursuers were gaining on him, pushing him to run his exhausted body even further.

The situation was growing hopeless, and the prey knew it. The hunters were pushing Minato further and further upwards, and the only reason his hunters had not completely caught up with him was due to them meticulously cutting off any slim chance of escape by covering every exit in the area.

“Damn it, DAMN IT!”

The feeling of entrapment quickly began to wind around his heart. Minato’s weapon was gone, taken when one of his pursuers attacked him from behind. It was supposed to be a regular patrol, only responding to a noise complaint. What he found was so much worse, and would likely cost him his life.

Mere seconds passed, filled with frantic running before he came to the destination, he knew he was running towards since he entered the parking garage. A solid concrete wall waited for him, signaling the end of the chase and smothering the last embers of hope he foolishly tried to keep aflame. Quickly, he scanned the large empty area, desperate to find anything he could defend himself with, the foot steps of his pursuers slowing to a standard walk, but growing with ever thud of his heart. They knew he was trapped like an animal, and were using caution as they approached him.

Minato’s pursuers finally revealed themselves. Each of them wore a different type of clothing style. A few suits, a couple of pairs of casual clothes, nothing that would imply they were anything other than normal civilians. All of them wore a strange type of mask that covered all of their features, and left only a pair of blood-red lenses for eyes to peer at the trapped man, like demons in the night staring at a lost soul to devour.

They seemed to move all at once, rushing him before he even realized what was happening. Minato thrashed about, punching one of the masked men right in the jaw and kicking another one’s leg, causing him to curse aggressively. The struggles were soon in vain, as the masked men had begun to pile on, and restrained his arms and legs, rendering him completely helpless. The cursing masked man took the time to repay his wounds by giving Minato two swift punches across the jaw, leaving a wide gash in his lower lip, blood and saliva dropping to the concrete floor instantly as Minato was quickly taken down to his knees.

The masked men held him tight, but aside from the overzealous one’s revenge swings, they did nothing more. Like human chains, they bound him to his spot, his tired knees and legs hardly comfortable with gravity and the weight of four adult men pushing them down into rigid concrete on a cold night. Minato had a hunch he knew what they were waiting for, and soon his intuition would be proven correct.

A lone set of footsteps began to approach. Judging by the sound of the shoe’s heels impacting the concrete, they were extremely high-end dress shoes, the type of which few would ever wear in such a setting. Whoever approached stopped just beyond the moonlight that illuminated the parking garage, with Minato struggling to see anyone in the dark shadows, but knowing full well that someone was indeed standing right in front of all of them. The masked men seemed to acknowledge the figure silently, their bright red lenses likely giving them some help seeing in the dark. As if by some instinct, all the masked men who had a hold of Minato tightened their grip, insuring there was no slack he could take advantage of.

“Stand him up.”

The arm’s that clung to the weak man’s limp form quickly raised him up with little issue. All of them were surprisingly strong, and they were many where he was but one. Despite their grip, Minato renewed his struggles, his body pulling his right arm as hard as he could to get free, but his struggles were ultimately in vain. The strange person in the shadows cast their arm out into the light, the sleeve a chocolate brown that ended in a black gloved hand.

Something in the back of Minato’s mind told him to run! To fight harder and try to get away! He had to do something! If not for him, then for his family.

“You bastards! Get off of me!”

Something wasn’t right. The hand that hung out from the darkness began to crackle. Tiny, purple sparks seemed to erupt out of nowhere from the hand, the air around it simmering with heat at an alarming rate. Minato had no idea what he was seeing. Was it some strange magic trick?

Whatever it was got the masked men going. Many abandoned their hold of Minato, retreating a few feet to stay away from the growing heat that centered around the strange persons hand. Only two were still clinging onto the wounded man, and both of them shifted about uneasily, as if wondering if they two should retreat with their comrades. Soon, it was no longer the moon illuminating the garage, but rather a strange light that glowed at the end of the gloved hand.

Its owners’ skin was incredibly pale, but the smile that was attached to it seemed to derive inhuman pleasure from what was about to happen. That smile would be the last thing Minato would see before hearing the voice issue its final goodbye.

“Shame Hazama…Almost wished you’d have stayed out of it.”

With that, the light came flying straight for Minato. He barely had enough time to register that the red-hot bolt was coming towards him before his body reacted on its own. With a quick tug, Minato pulled one of the masked men right in front of him, letting the good take the brunt of the attack. There was the sound of flesh cooking, a hot squeal like red meat on a grill and a flash of white-hot pain lashing across Minato’s chest. He didn’t even feel the force that tossed him and the masked man over the railing. Though he could not see it, the strange bolt had blown a hole clear through the masked thug, killing him instantly. Minato didn’t feel so lucky. A large disgusting burn had cooked his skin down to the muscle on his chest and stomach, his body already going into shock as the pain seemed to slowly fade away. The wind was blowing through his black hair and ruffling his clothes ass he fell, knowing full well his life was at an end. Only a single tear was shed by him, and it was for his family. He would never get to see his children grow, nor see his loving wife’s smile again.

What he wouldn’t do to see them all one last time...Just one more...