LARA:
It didn't take long for the pieces to fall into place. Sheriff Hampton was in on all of this. He had deceived me, and when he couldn't trap me, he turned me over.
Leo walked inside, drawing out each step as though savoring the moment. A cloud of cigar smoke lingered around him, the faint light casting his face in sinister shadows.
"Well, well, well," he sneered, a cruel smirk curling on his lips. "Seems we've got a little intruder who couldn't keep her nose out of other people's business."
"You're behind all of this," I whispered, horror creeping up my spine.
"What was that, Ms. Garcia?" Leo mocked, his voice dripping with amusement, the cigar still dangling from his mouth.
"You...you kidnapped Amara and the other children? Are you part of the Falcon group too?"
He threw his head back, laughing—a twisted, maniacal sound. "Oh, darling, you could say I am the Falcon."
My pulse hammered in my chest as I forced myself to stay calm, though fear prickled down my spine. Leo's eyes glinted darkly. "And lucky for you, I'm in the mood to play. I'll take you back to my place, let you beg me for mercy..." He paused, gesturing toward Amara. "But first—her turn."
My face twisted in disgust. Leo leaned closer, his voice dripping with malice. "Since you love keeping your ears and eyes on everything, I'll give you a front-row seat. I'll start with each of them—Fuck them one by one—until I drain every drop of blood like water."' His smile turned wicked, chilling. "And then, Ms. Garcia... it'll be your turn."
A cold dread settled over me as his words sunk in, a terror unlike any I'd ever known. But as fear and anger warred within me. "You sick monster!" I spat. "You and Hampton both deserve to rot for abusing your power!"
Hudson only laughed, his gaze cold and empty. "No, Ms. Garcia. We hold all the power here. With you and that brat in our grasp, there's nothing you can do to stop me."
At his side, Sheriff Hampton entered, his expression severe but blank, devoid of any remorse. He was an older man, his face marred by a jagged scar—a scar people whispered he'd earned fighting to protect the town. But now, looking at him, I wondered if it was more likely a mark of the ugliness within him. "Hello, Ms. Garcia," he greeted with a hollow tone.
My face twisted in rage. "How could you? She's just a little girl!" My voice wavered, but he stood silent, his gaze flat.
Hudson chuckled coldly. "Oh, she's a bit more than that. She's my child."
I stared, horrified. Hudson's grin grew even more twisted. "You see, I have... a lot of children I've never acknowledged. But this little devil," he sneered, pointing at Amara, "is mine. Trouble is, Miss Garcia, I can't afford a family ruining my reputation. So, I have to make other arrangements."
Revulsion churned in my gut. This man wasn't just a monster—he was a predator without even a shred of humanity.
In that moment, I felt an odd, aching relief that I'd never known my own father. If this is what some fathers are like, then maybe... maybe it's better not to have one at all.
I glanced over at Amara, trembling and tearful in the corner, while her own father orchestrated her demise without a flicker of remorse.
Just then, Leo received a call. "We have to kill the girl and the others. It's too risky to keep them alive," said the voice on the other end, sending a chill through me.
Leo paused, clearly torn. The caller had the upper hand. He cast one last glance our way, sighing theatrically. "Tsk, tsk... sorry, ladies. Guess we won't get to have our fun. It's time to end this."
Within seconds, his men burst in, guns at the ready. I begged for mercy, my voice breaking, but Leo and Hampton were already walking away, leaving us in the hands of their henchmen. Their faces were devoid of humanity, eyes cold as they aimed their guns at me and Amara. I saw the terror in her gaze, mirroring my own.
I knew then this was the end. Images of my life flooded my mind—the unspoken words I'd left with Mark, the laughter I'd shared with Ana, the way I wished Heath could be here. Regret gripped me, and I whispered, "I'm sorry," as tears slipped down my face. I clutched onto a sliver of hope, praying for a miracle as I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the inevitable.
A moment later, instead of gunfire, I heard a strangled cry, followed by a loud crash. My eyes flew open to find one of the men sprawled on the floor, a glass shard buried in his throat, blood pooling around him. He was dead.
I looked around, confused, until I saw a shadow behind him. Through the broken door, thunder rumble as saw a shadow stepped forward, revealing a figure with fire in his eyes and a mask on his face. I must have gone really crazy to imagine all this or possibly I am dead and making all this up in my head.
But then the shadow man moved closer. "When the gods can't reach the gutters for justice," he said, his voice low and menacing, "the devil has to do it."
I felt a mix of fear and gratitude. Grateful that this mysterious figure had saved us from certain death, but terrified that he was willing to kill to protect us. I still wasn't entirely sure we were safe.
As the door hung open, I gazed out at the vast ocean, illuminated by flashes of lightning and shrouded in the shadow of the masked man. That's when I realized we weren't on land but on a ship.
When the man in the mask entered the room, my heart raced. He resembled a dark angel, sent to save us from Leo Hudson and his men.
I stood there, paralyzed with a mix of fear and awe, as the masked figure moved with incredible speed and agility, taking down each of the eight men with brutal efficiency. His movements were almost inhuman; he dodged their attacks and struck back with lethal force. I watched as one man lunged at him with a knife, only to be disarmed in a flash. The masked man plunged the blade into the assailant's chest without hesitation. Another thug attempted to shoot him, but the masked warrior snatched the gun and turned it against him, delivering a crushing blow to his head.
The sounds of bones cracking and flesh tearing echoed in my ears as I watched in horrified fascination. The masked man fought for our survival with a ferocity that left me breathless. I saw him kick one man off the deck, sending him plummeting into the churning sea below. He then turned and snapped another man's neck with a swift twist of his hands. Every move was precise and calculated, and I knew we were incredibly lucky to have him on our side.
I couldn't believe what I was witnessing. He moved with such grace and precision, it was almost like a dance. But there was nothing beautiful about this choreography; it was pure violence, pure chaos. It was terrifying and exhilarating, and it was our only chance to escape this nightmare.
"Come on," he urged, motioning for me to follow him. "We have to get the others and get out of here."
"My hands!" I gestured to my bindings.
He rushed over, slicing through the ropes with one swift strike. "Go to the next room. Take the kids and get out of here," he commanded, his voice muffled by the mask. "There's a boat waiting on the other side."
I nodded, panic and determination coursing through me. "But what about you?"
He paused, locking eyes with me through the mask, his gaze chilling. "I'll survive!"
As I stood on my feet, blood surged back into my limbs as we raced toward the door. Navigating the ship, we encountered more guards determined to stop us, but the masked man was relentless, shooting them down one by one. It felt as if he were some sort of superhero, swooping in to save us from certain death. Just as our escape seemed within reach, I spotted a fresh wave of guards approaching, weapons drawn.
I gathered the nine other kids and ran toward the exit, following the masked man's lead. Without hesitation, he drew his weapon, guarding us with ruthless efficiency. The gunshots echoed in my ears as he eliminated one guard after another. I clutched the kids tightly; they mirrored my fear.
Through the chaos, I glimpsed a boat waiting on the other side. Urgency surged within me. "Come on!" I urged the kids. "We have to get off this deck!" They nodded, fear evident in their eyes, but the rain made it difficult to keep our balance. A man and a woman helped the kids cross safely, their faces grim but determined.
Looking around, I recognized the surroundings. To my surprise, we were still near Crane Beach. I had expected we'd be far from home by now, but relief washed over me at this stroke of luck. Turning back, I saw the masked man still locked in combat.
"Come on!" I yelled, waving for him to join us on land. He looked up and nodded, but before he could reach us, a guard lunged. In an instant, one of them landed a punch on his jaw, and the mask flew off.
My heart dropped as recognition hit me like a punch to the gut. "Mark!" I whispered.
I watched him continue to fight, but then another guard lunged at him, this time with a knife. Panic surged through me—I knew he couldn't fend them off alone.
"Look back!" I shouted, desperation rising in my voice, but the chaos of rain and thunder drowned me out.
Glancing back at the kids, I saw they were safe, but I couldn't abandon Mark to this fate. Stepping in front of him, I attempted to shield him from the attack. The guard's knife plunged into my left shoulder, and a searing pain shot through me as the blade sliced deep. I crumpled to the ground, gasping for air amidst the chaos of gunfire.
"Fuck," I heard Mark mutter between strikes.
Through my blurred vision, I saw him standing over me, urgency etched into his features. "Stay with me," he said, pressing his hands against my wound. "You're going to be okay."
But the world around me faded, replaced by the distant echoes of gunfire and the faint screams of children. My consciousness drifted, and just as I felt the darkness close in, I grasped onto one final thought—Why did he lied to me?. And then, everything went black.