Sarah, knowing that the cavern was no longer going to be safe for her quickened her feet and escaped through the backdoor into the manor. She knew that she had to get her decisions right if she was going to truly escape.Running aimlessly through the small halls in the manor, she could hear the feet of the guards stamping. They were not running as fast as she was because there was an air of confidence within them that Sarah was on an impossible adventure. How could she possibly escape a manor as big as that which had guards almost everywhere?Sarah was feeling her tummy heavy from the pregnancy but she darted on until she bumped into a figure.A jolt of fear shot through her and her heart leaped into her throat as she fell onto the ground.“Ms. Winston,” the figure uttered.Sarah looked up and it was Rico, the gardener who warned her about her family planning something evil towards her.“Rico?” she uttered, her voice breaking. Her heart sank into her chest because she thought that it
Mr. Hartlane was one of the workers who died a horrible death. He discovered the tattoo of an owl with sharp claws on one of his male colleagues and queried him about it. Mr. Hartlane began to suspect that there were others who had the same tattoo working amongst them and who had ulterior motives.The next day it was reported that he committed suicide because he was found hanging on a rope. People wondered how a man like Mr. Hartlane who was jovial and didn't seem to have any psychological or emotional challenges suddenly killed himself. But people like Sophie and Dexter who worked closely with the dangerous Kazitanis informants knew that it wasn't a suicide situation - Mr. Hartlane was murdered because he went too far and he was curious to know things that he should have just laid to bed.“Keep your voice low, Sophie,” Dexter hushed. “They won't find out okay? You don't need to worry about me. Just go on with your work.”“And how do you know that, huh?” Sophie queried, her eyes dart
Dexter’s footsteps dragged across the porch as he heaved a sigh, the sound of exhaustion echoing through his body. His guard was behind him and he helped with his suitcase.His 7-year-old son, Ronny darted out of the house with a whoop of delight the moment he realised that his Dad had come back from work. “Daddy! Daddy!” Ronny raised his voice in excitement, his face lit up like a firework as Dexter embraced him warmly even though his feet were still staggering in tiredness.“Guess what we learned in school today?” Little Ronny asked, a bright smile on his face.“Errm,” Dexter angled his head upward, his finger on his chin as his thoughts went wild. The question Ronny asked him seemed to have rattled his brain.“That's going to be a difficult guess though,” Dexter uttered, squeezing his face into a little smile. “No Daddy, you have to guess,” Ronny insisted.“Do I?” “Yes, papa.”“Okay, you were taught how to make boats out of paper, am I right?” Dexter asked, scanning through Ronn
One of the guards dropped dead in an instant as he got hit by one of the flying bullets, his blood splashed on the carpet.Little Ronny busted into weeping, his voice shrill with fright. “Dad, what was that? Are bad people after us? What did we do, Dad?”“Shush, you need to be quiet okay? It will be fine. We just have to hide for a while,” Dexter responded as he led his family down a ladder that descended into a downward basement, its wooden elements creaking as they placed their legs carefully.Ronny and Quincy both got to the basement and Dexter closed the wooden door before getting in with them. “We have to be quiet now, alright?” Dexter kept his fingers close to his lips in caution. “They are going to be here anytime soon.”They soon started to hear the muffled sounds of the assassins from the basement. Their voices were getting clearer as the seconds went by.Ronny and Quincy had sweat dropping off their foreheads and their fingers snapping in fear as they looked up at the ceili
The atmosphere was electric down the basement where Dexter and his family were as dust from the creaking sound poured down on their faces, forcing them to protect their faces.The silence was thick and heavy with fear as they looked at each other confusedly.Ronny quickly pressed against his mother, embracing her and hiding his face in the warmth of her protection. Little Ronny didn't want to die. He wondered if he was going to see another day. If he was going to play with his friends at school ever again if he was going to play around with his bicycle on Saturday mornings, or if he was going to hunt for spiders with his friends.Quincy, even though her face was contorted in fear, patted him on the back of his head calmly as his face was sunken in her embrace. Quincy let out a drop of tear which fell on Ronny’s palm. Her fear was turning into sadness as she slumped her shoulder ready for whatever was going to happen. The hitman noticed the creaking sound and a strange feeling surged
He angled his glance toward Quincy and his heart could not bear the agony.“Oh! My Quincy!”“No!”“No!”“Quincy! Please, you can't die.”“Please, wake up.”“No!” Dexter’s scream shattered the momentary silence as he wailed in despair, his heart torn in two pieces. He could feel a force drive into his heart at the sight of Quincy’s still and lifeless body.Quincy slumped to the floor as the hitman baring the gun changed the direction of his hand suddenly towards her before pulling the trigger. Her lifeless body slumped to the floor and blood was pooling around her - the smell of death filling the air.The hitmen lifted their voices in unison in an unholy chorus as they chanted in dark languages, their eyes death-filled.“Power to the Kazitanis!” One of the hitmen raised his voice with his fist in the air while the others responded in unison.“Power!”The hitman who shot Quincy passed the gun to Vanessa signaling for her to do the needful by putting a bullet to Dexter.Ronny watched wit
Camille lowered her eyes, her face a study of embarrassment.“Don't worry about her Grandpa. Let's just say that she is someone who played a huge role in ensuring that you are here.”Grandpa Leonard paced his gaze back and forth to get a good sense of his surroundings. He started trying to recall how he got to be hospitalized in the first place.“How long have I been unconscious?” he asked as he was recalling little by little what happened to him before the accident.“Well, Grandpa, it's been 3 days now,” Paul responded. “We are on the way to celebrate your 75th birthday when—-”“Oh, I remember now…I remember,” Grandpa Leonard butted in, and this time Paul dropped the glass cup when he saw that Grandpa Leonard was still hesitant. Paul heaved a sigh of relief. At least his memories were still intact, he thought.“I was also badly wounded from the accident so I couldn't ensure that you were given a private treatment on time.”“Oh, I understand, Paul. You have done so well.”Grandpa Leo
Mr. Timber favored one leg as he walked, his expression a mask of discomfort. Even though Mr. Timber tried to hide the injury, it was obvious that his footsteps were uneven.Paul’s thought traced back to the last time they met. He was doing fine then and nothing was wrong with his legs but what changed?He then remembered how he escaped the hospital. He recalled that there was an accident involving a second patrol vehicle after he had escaped the tree trunk expertly with Camille. Could that be why he was laughing? Paul knew that there was a high chance that he was inside the patrol vehicle.Yippee! Paul rejoiced inwardly. There was no need to provoke him any further. His limping legs were going to be more than enough for him to have his face reddened with anger. Paul kept clicking the glass cup and even though it got the attention of those around him, it didn't get his intended target - Mr. Timber.Another idea crossed Paul’s mind.He stood up with a glass of wine held in his hand, h