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The Brutal Revenge Chapter 11: The Final Gambit
Jones stood at the edge of the rooftop, staring down at the chaos below. The college courtyard was in disarray, factions had drawn their battle lines, and the air was thick with tension. His crew stood behind him, waiting for his word. This was it. The final move. The war against Clinton had raged longer than he had anticipated, but now, it was time to end it. He turned to his second-in-command, Ryan, who had a grim expression. "Clinton is holed up in the administration building. He’s expecting us," Ryan said. Jones smirked. "Good. Then let’s not disappoint him." His team nodded. There was no room for hesitation now. Clinton had ruled through fear and manipulation, turning the college into his personal empire. But Jones had chipped away at his foundation, and now it was crumbling. They had fought too hard, sacrificed too much. Clinton had humiliated, tortured, and killed too many. This wasn’t just a battle for control anymore. It was a fight for vengeance. Jones led his
The Brutal Revenge Chapter 12: The Siege of Kings
The scent of sweat and blood clung to the air like a ghost, a lingering reminder of the war waging within the college walls. Jones wiped the back of his hand across his split lip, tasting iron. His crew stood beside him, bruised and battered but still standing. Across from them, Clinton and his men mirrored their stance, their expressions a cocktail of fury and defiance. The fight should have been over. But it wasn’t. Not yet. “You look like hell, Jones,” Clinton sneered, rolling his shoulders. “Maybe you should just stay down this time.” Jones spat a mouthful of blood onto the cracked pavement. “Funny, I was about to say the same to you.” The two locked eyes, their unspoken history heavy between them. This was more than a battle for dominance, it was personal. The college wasn’t big enough for both of them, and only one would walk away as king. The tension stretched, electric and suffocating. Then, the storm broke. Clinton moved first, launching himself at Jones with
The Brutal Revenge Chapter 13: The Phantom's Gambit
The air inside the hideout was thick with tension. Jones sat at the worn-out table, hands clasped together, deep in thought. Clinton’s final words played on a loop in his mind. "You just put a target on your back, Jones. The people who run this school… the real power? They don’t like change." What the hell did that mean? Across from him, Kayla leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “This doesn’t sit right with me,” she said. “Clinton’s always been arrogant, but the way he said it…” She shook her head. “It’s like he knew something we don’t.” Isaac, his left eye swollen from the earlier fight, exhaled sharply. “And what’s worse? He seemed happy about it. Like he wanted us to be paranoid.” Jones gritted his teeth. That was exactly what Clinton wanted, to keep him looking over his shoulder. But he wasn’t about to fall into that trap. Then the door creaked open. Everyone snapped to attention, ready for a fight. But the person standing there wasn’t a threat. At least, not an obviou
The Brutal Revenge Chapter 14: The Deceiver's Hand
The silence after the cryptic message on Jones’s phone was suffocating. His instincts screamed at him, this wasn’t over. He knew Adrian wasn’t the type to retreat. If anything, the message felt like a warning, a reminder that the real game had just begun. Jones clenched his jaw, pacing inside the hideout. Kayla and Isaac sat across from him, both tense. “What’s the play?” Isaac asked. “Adrian’s dangerous, but he’s not Clinton. He doesn’t let emotions get in the way.” “That’s exactly what makes him more dangerous,” Kayla muttered. “He’s a strategist. He won’t attack head-on. He’ll chip away at us first.” Jones exhaled, his mind working fast. Adrian wasn’t just trying to beat him, he was trying to control the battlefield. He had already proven he could manipulate situations, gain information, and predict their moves. Now, he would come for the foundation Jones had built. And if Adrian was anything like Clinton, he would make his first move soon. Very soon. The next morni
The Brutal Revenge Chapter 15: The Vanishing Point
The weight of Adrian’s victory pressed down on Jones like a vice. The video on the phone was proof of Adrian’s meticulous planning, his ability to stay ten steps ahead. But Jones wasn’t about to let this be the end. Adrian was still within reach, just steps away, strolling toward the exit as if he had already won. His confidence was infuriating. Jones clenched his fists. Not this time. Adrian had played his game. Now, it was Jones’s turn. “You think this is over?” Jones’s voice cut through the silence. Adrian paused. His smirk returned as he turned his head slightly. “It should be. You’re in checkmate.” Jones exhaled, his pulse steady. “Not yet.” Then he moved. A blur of motion. Adrian barely had time to turn before Jones launched forward, closing the gap between them with explosive speed. A punch flew toward Adrian’s face. He dodged, but just barely. Too late. Jones had predicted the sidestep. His knee shot up, slamming into Adrian’s ribs with a brutal force that sent him
The Brutal Revenge Chapter 16: The Deception
The gym still smelled of sweat and blood, the echoes of the fight lingering in the air. Jones stood in the silence, fists clenched, eyes scanning the now-empty space. Clinton had made his move, slipping away into the darkness like a ghost.But something felt off.Adrian wasn’t the type to disappear so easily.Jones took a slow breath, trying to steady his pulse, but the moment he did.BAM!The gym doors slammed open.Jones barely had time to react before a blur of motion came barreling toward him.Adrian.Jones twisted to dodge, but Adrian was faster this time. A fist crashed into his ribs, sending a shockwave of pain through his body. Jones gritted his teeth, stepping back, but Adrian didn’t stop.Another punch. A brutal hook to the jaw.Jones staggered.Adrian was back.And this time, he wasn’t holding back.Kayla and Isaac tensed on the sidelines, ready to jump in, but Jones held up a hand, stopping them.This fight was his.Adrian smirked. His face was still battered, his eye swel
The Brutal Revenge Chapter 17: The Shattered Victory
The gym was still. The only sounds were the ragged breaths of the fallen and the distant echoes of Clinton’s last words.We burn this place to the ground.Jones’s pulse hammered in his skull. The weight of exhaustion pressed on him, but the fire in his chest burned hotter. Blood dripped from his brow, mixing with the sweat on his skin. His body screamed in protest, but his mind was sharp—calculating. He had won the fight, but Clinton had set the board for war.Kayla and Isaac flanked him, their eyes fixed on the retreating figures disappearing into the night. Shadows stretched across the wreckage of Blackwood’s battleground, whispering of battles yet to come.Jones wiped the blood from his mouth. He couldn’t show weakness. Not now. Not ever.“This isn’t over,” he muttered.Isaac exhaled sharply. “Feels like it is.”Kayla shot him a glare, then turned back to Jones. “What’s the move?”Jones looked down at Adrian, broken on the floor, barely conscious. The bastard had taken him to his l
The Brutal Revenge Chapter 18: The Ghosts of Betrayals
A scream tore through the tunnels. Jones spun, adrenaline surging like wildfire. The smoke blurred his vision, but the raw agony in that voice was unmistakable, one of his own. His chest tightened. Clinton just watched. Amused. “Didn’t I tell you?” Clinton’s voice was a whisper of menace. “I already started.” Jones’s mind raced. What had he done? Then....gunfire. Not from the tunnels. From above. Isaac grabbed Jones’s arm, eyes wide. “That’s coming from—” The administration building. Jones’s pulse slammed. “Kayla’s up there.” Clinton’s smirk widened. “She was.” No. Jones didn’t think. He moved. Ripping free from Clinton’s grip, he launched himself forward, shoving through the battlefield. The tunnels were an inferno—bodies colliding, blades flashing in the suffocating dark. Jones didn’t stop. Clinton’s laugh echoed behind him. “Run, Jones. Run to your ghosts.” The administration building was burning. Flames licked at the windows, shattered glass spillin
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Chapter 42: The War Council
Jones’ lungs burned as they sprinted into the night. Every breath came ragged, each step dragging his aching body closer to their only chance at survival.Blackwood College sprawled ahead—silent, eerie, a battlefield waiting to be claimed.Jones didn’t hesitate. “Inside. Now.”Dre shoved open the rusted doors of the abandoned library, its grand walls now draped in dust and decay. The group staggered in, barely holding themselves together. Blood dripped, breaths hitched, but they weren’t done.Not yet.Jones turned, locking eyes with Riley, Kayla, and Dre. “We call them. All of them.”Kayla, still clutching her ribs, frowned. “You sure?”“No other choice,” he said, voice like steel. “We either stand together—or we fall.”He grabbed the emergency radio from his jacket, twisting the frequency dial.Static crackled.Then—“Jones?” A voice, sharp and clear.Leo.Jones exhaled, tension easing. “It’s time. Get everyone. Blackwood Library. Now.”No hesitation. “We’re coming.”The radio buzzed
Chapter 41: Into the Abyss
The air reeked of dust and blood. Rubble shifted as the monstrous hand clawed free, debris tumbling down in jagged shards. Calhoun’s fingers flexed—bones snapped back into place with sickening cracks. His bloodied face emerged from the wreckage, eyes glowing with cold, animalistic rage.Jones’ breath hitched.He’s still moving.Behind him, Clinton’s slow, taunting applause sent a chill through his spine.“Bravo,” Clinton mused. “I must say, Jones, you never fail to entertain.”Jones ignored him. Focus.“Everyone, MOVE!” Jones barked, shoving Riley toward the ruins.Kayla gritted her teeth. Dre was already limping, clutching his ribs. Riley wiped blood from her forehead, but her stance was firm.Yet, none of them were ready for what came next.Calhoun lunged.Jones barely had time to move before a brutal fist slammed into his chest.CRACK.Jones flew backward, skidding across the pavement. Pain exploded in his ribs, breath torn from his lungs. His vision swam. He forced himself up—just
Chapter 40: The Unchained War
The night was thick with tension. The kind that coiled in the air like a storm waiting to break. The moon hung low over Blackwood College, casting elongated shadows across the abandoned dormitories and the cracked pavement of the courtyard. Every breath Jones took felt heavier, thick with anticipation. Tonight, they either took Clinton down, or they lost everything.He crouched behind a crumbling stone bench, Riley at his side, her knuckles white against the handle of her knife. Ahead of them, across the darkened grounds, Kayla and Dre moved like ghosts, sticking to the shadows as they prepared the first phase of the plan—Misdirection.Step One: MisdirectionThe first explosion wasn’t real.Jones had made sure of that.A fireball erupted from the south dormitories, followed by the deafening crack of an incendiary charge. Thick black smoke billowed into the sky, painting the night with chaos. The perfect illusion.Seconds later, the sound of pounding boots echoed through the college as
Chapter 39: Mastermind's Gambit
Jones woke up to pain. A dull, throbbing agony that radiated from his ribs, his jaw, his knuckles. His body felt like it had been run over by a truck—no, by Calhoun.But he was alive.Barely.He blinked against the harsh light, his vision swimming. A broken ceiling fan spun lazily above him, the rusted metal groaning with every turn. The air smelled of dust, old leather, and something metallic—blood. His own.A shadow moved beside him.“Jones,” Riley’s voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. “You with me?”He turned his head slightly. Riley was crouched beside him, her face streaked with dirt and dried blood. Her eyes, though tired, burned with something fierce. Determination.Across the room, Kayla was pressing a torn cloth to Jace’s shoulder, whispering something he was too weak to respond to. Dre was slumped against a crate, his breathing shallow but steady.They had all barely survived.And Clinton was still out there.Jones exhaled slowly, shifting, forcing himself to sit up de
Chapter 38: The Unstoppable Monster
Jones’ skull throbbed, his vision blurred as he lay sprawled on the hood of a wrecked car. Blood dripped from his mouth, pooling on the rusted metal. His fingers twitched toward his knife, but his wrist was still numb from Calhoun’s crushing grip.Across the battlefield, his team was barely holding on. Jace was slumped against the ground, barely breathing. Kayla’s body twitched near the wreckage, her rifle lying useless beside her. Dre was on his knees, one arm cradling his ribs. Riley staggered forward, gripping a steel pipe with shaking hands.And towering above them all—Calhoun.The monster rolled his shoulders, the firelight dancing across his broad frame. He wasn’t just a fighter. He was a force of nature. His massive silhouette barely had a scratch from all their attacks.Behind him, leaning against a wrecked car, sipping whiskey as if this were a casual game, was Clinton.The bastard chuckled, swirling his drink. “I have to say, Jones… I expected more.” He took a slow sip, his
Chapter 37: Relentless Carnage
Jones’ ribs ached with every breath, but pain was the least of his concerns. Blood dripped down his temple, the taste of iron thick on his tongue. Riley clutched her throat, still coughing, her face pale. Jace groaned beside her, holding his side—likely a cracked rib or worse.And Dre…Dre lay motionless for a moment, groaning as he forced himself up, his lip split open. “We’re screwed, man.”Jones gritted his teeth. Not yet.They had barely escaped, but they weren’t done. Not by a long shot.They regrouped in a half-burned warehouse on the outskirts of campus. The air was thick with sweat, gun oil, and desperation. The flickering lights overhead cast long, jagged shadows as Jones paced in front of them.Kayla tightened her grip on her rifle. “We can’t keep running.”“No shit,” Jace muttered, spitting blood onto the floor.Jones turned sharply, his mind racing. “We don’t run. We strategize. Calhoun’s strong, yeah, but he’s not invincible.”Riley’s voice was hoarse. “Didn’t feel that w
Chapter 36: The Monster Unleashed
The air in Clinton’s office was thick with anticipation. The room was dimly lit, the only sound the slow, deliberate tapping of Clinton’s fingers against his desk. Victor stood near the window, his broken nose still bruised, eyes scanning the streets below. The war was unfolding, but Clinton had no intention of letting it spiral out of his control. Jones thought he had the upper hand. He was wrong. A low, metallic creak filled the silence as the heavy steel door swung open. Footsteps followed—slow, deliberate, each step landing like a hammer against the floor. Then he stepped into the light. Calhoun. The room seemed to shrink around him. He was a beast of a man—easily seven feet tall, his frame packed with raw muscle, each movement exuding power. His skin was marred with scars, battle-worn from wars no ordinary man could have survived. A black tactical vest clung to his chest, revealing arms thick as tree trunks. His face was a mask of cold efficiency, his eyes hollow pits of v
Chapter 35: Turning the Tide
The air in the alley was thick with tension, the dim streetlights casting jagged shadows against the brick walls. Jones' mind raced, his pulse hammering in his ears. Clinton had anticipated everything. He had played them like pieces on a board, maneuvering them into check.But the game wasn’t over.Jones turned to his crew, his voice low but firm. “We need to hit back—hard and fast. Clinton thinks we’re out of moves. Let’s prove him wrong.”Dre wiped blood from his lip, nodding. “Say the word, man.”“We need a stronghold,” Kayla said, scanning their surroundings. “If we’re out in the open, we’re dead.”Jace’s jaw clenched. “We’ve lost our safe houses. Our contacts. We have nowhere to go.”Jones exhaled sharply, thinking. “We don’t need a safe house. We need a war zone.”Riley frowned. “What does that mean?”Jones’ eyes darkened. “Clinton controls Blackwood because people fear him. We take away that fear—we take away his power.”Kayla crossed her arms. “And how do we do that?”Jones lo
Chapter 34: The Masterstroke
Jones read the note again, his fingers tightening around the edges. The ink was bold, deliberate."Nice try, Jones. But you're not the only one who can play this game. You think you're hunting me? You just walked into my trap. -C"A cold wave of unease washed over him. His crew stood frozen, the weight of the message sinking in. Riley cursed under her breath, Dre clenched his fists, and Jace scanned the shadows beyond their hideout, suddenly feeling exposed."How the hell—?" Kayla started but stopped herself.Jones took a deep breath, steadying his thoughts. They had spent days infiltrating Clinton’s network, planting doubt, twisting alliances. But Clinton had seen through it. Worse—he had played along."We need to leave. Now," Jones ordered.Before anyone could react, the lights flickered, and a deep, mechanical click echoed from the door. The room plunged into darkness.Then came the sound.Tap. Tap. Tap.Footsteps—slow, deliberate—just outside their hideout.Jace reached for his bl
