A chance to play God: The Devil's way

Chapter 3: What danger unveils

Hector swirled the brown liquid in his small glass cup. He stared at the content with hazy eyes and watched as a trail of water slid down the small glass and hit the table.

The image of his wife and child submerged in their pool of blood with their throats gaping flashed through his mind. Hector winced and shook his head. He downed the liquid in a quick flash and slammed the glass on the mahogany counter.

"Another," he hiccuped to the barman. Against his better judgment, he poured another round. Hector downed it again and relished in the burning sensation as it slid down his throat. He needed something to distract him. He needed something physical to hurt him.

"Another," Hector called out weakly fully intoxicated. Hector didn't want to feel anymore, he didn't want that heaviness and sadness that hovered over him after he had found their bodies. Hector wished he had died during one of the missions, that way, he would be saved from such sadness.

"Hey, Jack, that's enough now, you can't be drinking this much. Let's get you home," a lady whom Hector had never met before, wrapped her hands around his shoulder and hoisted him from the bar stool.

"Who…w-are…" Hector hiccuped and pointed his finger sluggishly around her face.

"It's alright, I'll take you home now," she said to Hector before turning to the barman who stared suspiciously.

"He's my cousin," she smiled and helped Hector out of the door. His eyes fell toward the ground and he caught sight of her cleavage. The black dress she wore had a low neck that exposed her breasts. Hector bit his lips, and the words of Aaron crossed his mind: you need to fuck when you can.

The lady took him to a room she had booked for them and Hector was more than grateful to crash on the bed.

"Let's take that off," the unnamed woman fidgeted with his zipper.

"No, Christine, I'm too tired," Hector held her hands and rolled over.

"It's Sandra and trust me, you'll have a good time," she tried again and Hector dozed off.

When he woke up a few hours, his head throbbed like they had dragged his body around and slammed his head against an anvil, with a hammer. He winced when he tried to move.

He heard the sounds of scuffles in the room and he turned his head slowly toward it. He saw a lady clad in her underwear searching his jacket. Hector winced as his vision became steady.

"Who are you? What am I doing here?" Hector called out. The girl whipped behind as she had been caught in the act of stealing. Her eyes darted toward the door and back at him.

She tried to run. Hector ignored his banging head and lunged at her. He gripped her arm tightly. Hector didn't feel light like he thought he would, he looked down and saw his pants were still on.

"What did you do to me?" Hector demanded as he tightened his grip on her arm. She winced and stood on her toes.

"Nothing, I swear. You wouldn't stop calling a woman named Christine before you passed out. I couldn't do much after you threw up on me. I had to get my clothes dry-cleaned," she sounded honest.

Hector loosened the grip on her arm. She was quick, but not quick enough. She rotated with a small knife in her left hand. Hector caught the movement with his side eye and slammed his fist against her face. She dropped to the floor, unconscious.

"Shit," Hector cursed, it was a reflex from his years of training. Hector turned to check for his jacket when his eyes connected with a man standing at the corner of the room. Hector shrieked and jumped back, visibly startled by the presence of someone else. He hadn't noticed him when he moved out of the bed at first.

Hector quickly reached into the back of his pants and pulled out his gun and aimed at the man.

"Who are you?" Hector didn't have time for pleasantries. His throbbing head made him more hot-tempered than usual. And he was tired and grieving.

"You need to leave, now," the strange man said. Hector pulled back the hammer of the gun and loaded the chamber with bullets.

"I said, who the fuck are you!?" Hector said angrily. This was some plot to steal from him and he was having none of it.

"I'm a man who wants the same thing you do…revenge," he said. It wasn't enough information for Hector. A sharp knock on the door disturbed him. Hector stared at the room, there were no windows. He moved backward to the adjoining bathroom and locked the door. There was nowhere for the man to run.

"Those men out there, are here to kill you. That was why she was sent," the man said again. Hector never took his eyes off him as he walked toward the door. He kept the gun pointed at the corner where the man was. He looked through the peephole and saw a waiter with a buffet cart.

"Who is it?" Hector asked as he looked at the scene. His guts were telling him that something wasn't right. Maybe, this was fueled by the strange man by the corner of the room.

"Room service!" The waiter responded.

"I didn't order for room service."

"But the girl did."

"What's her name?"

The waiter was quiet for a minute and glanced down at a paper.

"Tracy?"

He knew something was up, he remembered her name was Sandra. The waiter knew he had messed up when Hector didn't respond. The other two men who had been hiding by either side of the door came out and aimed their guns at the door.

Hector's eyes widened before he ran and dove over the bed, then crawled under it. They repeatedly shot at the door like patters of rain on a window. The men smashed through the door just as Hector's legs entered under the bed. He stared at their feet as they moved rapidly around the room.

He saw the unconscious body of Sandra, then they shot her. Hector breathed out slowly, he removed the magazine from his gun, and ran his thumb along it: it was full.

He stared as the other two entered the bathroom, leaving one in the room. When his feet were angled toward the door, he crawled out and shot at him behind his head. The rest rushed out.

Hector laid waste to them. After the adrenaline had died off, Hector realized he didn't see the strange man who had warned him. Hector put on his jacket and ran out of the hotel.

He pushed passed the older man who had stopped a cab and dove into the empty cab ignoring the yells of the man.

"Drive," Hector commanded and the driver moved. He rested his head against the headrest, his heart was still hurrying. If he had slept a little longer, he would have been a dead man by now.

"I told you so."

Hector's head snapped to the side and his eyes connected with the strange man who had been in the hotel.

"Who are you?" Hector seethed.

"Me?" The driver called out.

"I'm not speaking to you. I'm talking to him," Hector pointed at the strange man who sat with a smile.

"Are you okay, sir? There's no one there."

Hector didn't know what made him pass out if it was the realization that dawned on him or the throbbing head, but he realized he was seeing a ghost.