Hellstinger

15. Ambush...

They say your life flashes before your eyes when you are dying. They say you are strongest when you are at your lowest. Are they right? Or are they just been dramatic?

Marcus' life isn't flashing before his eyes as his life slips from his grasp. All he sees is the anger and hatred in the eyes of the man sitting atop him. All Marcus can feel is the strength of the fingers wrapped around his neck with a murderous intention. And there is nothing Marcus can do to save himself.

'Ain't I supposed to be a warrior or something?' Marcus thought to himself, desperately clawing at the man's face and arm in a futile attempt to save himself.

'Ain't I supposed to be the one that will rise in the war against Romulus' forces of the Ether life? I can't die at the hands of a crazy maniac.'

"You shouldn't be alive!" The man said with a deranged hatred. His fingers tighten around Marcus' throat, quickly draining what little strength he had. "You shouldn't have survived."

Marcus wanted to ask what he was talking about, but with his life fading away, all he could do was try to fight the man atop him.

"Your parents knew," The man said with unreasonable hatred, "they knew they stood no chance, they knew they couldn't protect everyone. And what did they do? WHAT DID THEY DO?!"

"You should have died with them...you should have just died!"

The first thing that came to Marcus' mind was as simple as; 'he knows my parents?'

***

THREE HOURS EARLIER

***

"I'm telling you, Lexy, Big Joe and Bobby should be here right now. Hell, the entire crew should be here instead of...of...of wherever they are."

Marcus, Alexander, and Cynthia had left the manor an hour ago courtesy of Cynthia's unyielding whining. She hadn't been in Phoenix for a long time and wanted to party all night, and refusing to party is not something Marcus is capable of. Not even with the incident of the curved blade, not even with Alexander's advice on getting rid of distractions.

"And I'm telling you that this club is the worst decision you have ever made," Alexander said without looking at Marcus, standing beside the circular couch of the VIP lounge facing the dancing crowd below and the DJ booth just some yards away. Alexander is in full vigilant mode.

"It's crawling with lowlifes, convicts, and at least one of your artistic rivals." She said, constantly scanning the entire club with her eyes. "I don't like it."

"Chillax, we are in the VIP lounge, no one can cross into the VIP lounge," Marcus said, holding a smoking pipe of shisha in one hand and a wine glass in the other. "And besides, if you had allowed either Big Joe or Bobby to be here, it wouldn't be so much hassle."

"I mean, can you believe this DJ's mix? It's total whack. He doesn't know the difference between pitch and volume." He said as an afterthought, but Alexander had stopped listening to him. Her eyes are on Cynthia.

"That little..." Alexander said to herself, leaning closer on the railings separating the raised VIP section from the dancefloor. "Why won't nobody listen to me?"

Alexander could clearly recall Cynthia agreeing to a low-key clubbing experience. But now she is leading a small group of partygoers up the stairs of the VIP section and approaching their lounge.

She watched as a smiling Cynthia introduced are old party friends to the one and only Marc C who didn't seem to mind the lounge getting crowded. Marcus signaled for more drinks and in no time, the lounge had gotten rowdy.

'I should have just called Big Joe and Bobby.' Alexander thought with a sigh as she tried to drown out all the distractions and concentrate on her duty.

Marcus doesn't know the whole story. All he knew was his parents lived their lives as the heroes of Phoenix and sacrificed - insisted on saying murdered - their lives protecting the city. But there is a lot more to the story.

It is the reason she is very anxious about making his whereabouts public, it is the reason she is anxiously scanning the club for potential threats. And the reason she will not allow Marcus to be associated with his parents' public reputation; the Hunters.

Hours passed with drinks and substances being passed around. And Marcus could no longer push his tolerance. The music was blasting through the speakers and the lounge was filled with intoxicated partygoers, dancing and drinking.

This was what he needed. Just last week, the most worrisome of his troubles was picking the sexiest girl in a party and now he has to learn about demons and training and shrouds and all Hellstinger kinds of stuff.

But at this moment, he can let go of everything and just gulp down his drink as Cynthia twerked against him in sync with the rap beat blasting off the speakers. Marcus is practically at his happiest. Then everything went downhill as though by the flick of a button.

<<< RING...! >>>

The DJ's systems got automatically disconnected as soon as the fire alarms started ringing. At first, everyone in the club stood in place; disoriented, and unsure of their next course of action; murmuring, in their half-drunken stupor, of their displeasure.

Then the sprinkler system kicked in and immediately brought everyone back to their senses. The club went rowdy with everyone running for the exit in a disorganized haste.

Unlike Marcus, Cynthia was less drunk and she moved faster than anyone in the lounge, dashing straight for the exit before the others followed suit. Marcus dropped the glass in his hand and was about to follow when strong hands pushed him to the floor.

"Lexy?!" Marcus said, looking over his shoulder to see Alexander's concentrated gaze was still scanning. Her hair and clothes were already wet just like Marcus'.

"Come on we've got to get out of here!"

"Stay down," Alexander said, her left hand holding the base of his skull and forcing him to stay crouched on the floor.

Two minutes passed and the last of the partygoers were filling out of the club; "Lexy?!" Marcus said, nervous.

"Stay down, Marcus." Marcus has no idea what Alexander is waiting for, and if she says to stay down when fire alarms and the sounds of water rushing out of the sprinkler system are the only things that can be heard, that is what he will do.

"There is no fire, it's either a prank or a trap," Alexander said, picking herself up and allowing Marcus to stand straight. At least he tried to; his senses scrambled and he found himself on the floor again. He is still very drunk.

"I think you are being paranoid," Marcus said.

"Come on, we are going through the back door."

Marcus, with help from Alexander, picked himself up and the pair moved quickly through the main section of the club into the staff-only restricted area that opened into a short corridor. As soon as the door closed behind them, Marcus noticed that the fire alarms had dwindled and the sprinkler system in this part was inactive.

"If there is no fire, then why..." He didn't get to complete his quarry when Alexander's hand slammed on his wet chest to stop him.

Standing in front of them at the end of the corridor, with a not-friendly-at-all look, is a man; easily seven feet tall, hundreds of pounds of pure muscles ripping out of his armless shirt, and a purple-tinted goatee; "whoa, that is a man."

"Yeah," Alexander muttered, "I agree."

She gently pushed Marcus back the way they came. Clearly, the backdoor exit wasn't an option.

And neither is retreating as two other men - one, a black average man, lean and rowdy, the other, stout with a black hoodie - came through the door leading to the main section of the club, effectively trapping them in the center of the narrow corridor.

"Okay, I'll admit it," Marcus said, the threat of danger sobering him up a little "Coming here was a bad idea. Who do you think these guys are?"

"You know how you insist your parents were murdered?" Alexander said, looking from one side to the other, and holding Marcus' wrist tightly like a child.

"They were," Marcus replied with conviction.

"Well, you are about to hear a different version of that story."

"Wha..."

"Stay behind me," She cut Marcus off as she unbuttoned her suit, looking left to right. "On my cue, you run for the main club. Got it?"

Marcus nodded even though her eyes were focused on the three men as they walked in one after the other, entrapping them.

"I warn you, boys," She said, throwing her wet suit away and folding her sleeves up. "I'm no pushover."

"Neither are we." Purple goatee man said with a rumbling voice. "We just have one question, your lives depend on your answer."

"Oh yeah?" Marcus said, stepping up. Already forgetting what Alexander said; she pulled him back to stand behind her.

"Which one of you is the Hunter kid." Purple goatee said simply.

"Ah," Alexander laughed, relaxing her pose to further disarm the men. "I think you boys got the wrong people. My name is Hill and here is Marc C Hellstinger. I'm sure you know him well, huh?"

"We know who he is," The stout hoodie man said, "and we have it on good authority that one of you is the Hunter kid. Which one?"

"Come on," Alexander said, "you can't seriously think my parents are the famous heroes of Phoenix?"

"No," Purple goatee said. "But Marc C, now that is a different story."

"Come now boys," Alexander said, her voice dropping and her muscles tightening. "The fire department will be here any minute, escorted by the police. Let's part ways and we will forget any of this ever happened."

As though on cue, the black man and the stout man charged at full speed. Like a bull ready to destroy all in its path. Alexander reacted in the same bit. She dashed towards them, leaped unto the right side of the wall, and used the leverage to leap higher. Bringing her knees together, she landed right on the black man's face.

The impact sent him back into his partner, causing both of them to get entangled for a second. Marcus flinched as though he was the one that was hit. And although he isn't sure about the physics of Alexander's stunt, the outcome couldn't be more prideful. But the purple goatee man was already in motion, the corridors vibrated to his heavy stomps as he ran towards them. Alexander grabbed Marcus' wrist while the first two were still entangled and disoriented.

"Come on, jump." She said, pushing Marcus forward as they jumped over the entangled pair.

Marcus made it clear, but Alexander didn't. One of the men had tried to grab Marcus as he jumped over, he failed but managed to trip Alexander. She fell face first on the other side;

"Run dumbass!" She yelled at Marcus who had turned around to help her, and for the first time, he listened without hesitation and ran out the door.

Alexander jumped to her feet. She took three steps back with her hands raised high in defense, facing off with three men one of which is easily twice her size and three times her body weight.

The purple goatee man hadn't paused a bit. Although slow due to his build and weight, he came charging like thunder. And despite the intimidation and inevitability of being crushed, Alexander stood her ground.

As soon as he got into her striking range, she tightened her muscles and leaped up to bring a roundhouse kick to his face. But she misjudged his reflexes. The purple goatee man caught her leg in mid-air, grabbed her by her collar without letting go of her leg, and in one swift - and merciless - motion, he slammed her into the wall.

"Don't let him get away!" The purple goatee man ordered, and the black man quickly dashed out in response as Alexander fell to the ground in a fit of bloody cough. "You, don't let her get in my way."

With that, he ran after the black man. All Alexander could do was dread the number of internal injuries she might have acquired as she spit out blood while she cough and catch her breath.