Dead Eyes
Book One of Echoes of the Broken
by Kyler Buschette
© 2025 Kyler Buschette
All rights reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced or
transmitted in any form or by any means,
electronic or mechanical, without written
permission from the author.
John
The sun was shining—almost too bright for a city that hid so much filth. The people in this city need someone they can look up to; I want to be that person.
I grabbed some trash bags on my way to Mr. Gretzky's. It's a small task, but it shows people someone cares. Still, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up — like someone was watching me from the shadows.
Around noon I finished helping Mr. Gretzky paint his pizzeria, which opened the next day. I snuck out of the pizzeria before he could offer me money again.
As I turned down the road, an alleyway opened up to my right. Footsteps quickly appeared behind me and before I could react I was shoved into the alleyway.
"I need to speak with you in private," the man whispered. "It's about your nightly activities."
His face was scruffy and looked to be in his late thirties. His hands were large, his dark trench coat hid his broad stature. He looked caring, like how I always envisioned a father would look at his kid if he really cared about him.
"Are you a criminal?" I asked.
"No. But I know you are," he replied.
"So, you're a cop?" I stuttered.
My throat tightened up. If he's a cop, this is it. I've only ever wanted to help — to do good in my own way. If this is where it ends, then so be it. I don't regret a single thing.
"No," he said.
"What? What do you mean no? If you are here about my hobby, and you're not here to stop me, then why are you here?" I blurted out.
"You're exceptional," he said, extending his hand. "You'd fit in perfectly in a team of like-minded individuals who share your… hobby."
I swallowed hard before shaking his hand. "I've always wanted to be a part of something bigger. I'd love to join."
When I looked into his eyes, they harbored a deep sadness within, concealed behind a faint smile.
Chris
I had been waiting for this day for a week. Until then I had completely forgotten it was my birthday. I stood alone where I should have been with family and friends, but that was fine — this was my purpose.
I stood atop a brick building in the rain. It was dark; the only light out was the moon. Below, a semi-truck finished loading as I listened to the murmurs below. My skin tingled with anticipation. I couldn't stop smiling.
"Time to go," someone shouted, slamming his fist on the truck.
I dropped down on top of the trailer and rolled under the garage door as it came down, unsheathing my knives. A guy on my left started to make a sound that didn't finish before my left blade sliced his throat. I ripped it out and moved.
Four more men armed themselves. I dashed to the closest, slit his thigh with one blade, then drove the other through his gut. The adrenaline felt euphoric — the slim odds, five on one, made my night.
One man aimed a pistol. I used the corpse of the man I just killed as a shield, baiting every bullet. He fired every bullet into the body out of fear; I dropped it, lunged left and stabbed his shooting hand. A second later my right blade slid into his temple. The rest scattered.
Another charged with a box cutter. I dropped letting him have my shoulder. I stabbed his thigh, then finished him through the chin with the same blade. The last man threw a wild haymaker. I stepped in, kicked his leg out, and shoved the box cutter through his neck until he stopped moving.
When it was over, the high evaporated — replaced by a burning pain in my shoulder. The rooftop felt so ordinary. I sheathed my knives. I should have hated the pain; instead it proved I was strong.
A figure stepped out of the shadows. "I'm not here to fight you," he said.
"What do you want?" I asked, breath staggered.
"Come to my car. I'll patch you up. Then I'll tell you what I want," he said as if holding a secret.
I thought about lying. With my hand pressed to my shoulder no lie could be told. He descended down the stairs and waited in his car. I shadowed him from rooftop to rooftop; when he didn't drive off, I approached.
He sat me up, cleaned my wound, stapled it closed. I had been stabbed before, but never this deep; the burn throbbed. I chased pain, but I knew I should fear it. I am reckless, yet feel so alive.
"Who are you?" I asked when he'd finished.
"I have reasons," he said. "You have a fighting spirit that's being wasted. Join a team. Stop dying out here."
"Cut the bullshit," I told him. "I don't want to save anyone. I just want to kill. If I join, do I kill more or less?"
"More," he said, quietly.
"Fine," I stood, ready to leave.
"At 4:30 on September 8th — Willowcrest and Stonehaven. Heal up, Chris. We have a city to save." He watched me limp off.
Nathan
"Why are you scared of me?" I whispered to the corpse beside me. "Everyone I help looks at me like a monster. I couldn't stop myself…I wanted to save you, but I—"
I stopped, staring at the blood pooling beneath him.
The woman I saved was already gone. Her footsteps faded like everyone else who's ever seen me. I wiped my bloody hand across my cheek, just to feel something warm.
"At least you got one good hit in," I said to the corpse.
"I didn't really feel it though," I chuckled.
"Who are you talking to, Nathan?"
The voice froze me. Someone had seen. I couldn't move. My throat locked, my hands still trembling from what I had done.
"Nobody…are you here to help me," I muttered.
"Why did I say that," I muttered. "That didn't even make sense."
I couldn't bear to face him. He's a cop for sure and now I'm going to prison for the monster I've become. If I go to prison maybe I won't be so alone anymore. Help me.
"You're not alone, Nathan. You just forgot how much people matter to you. Come with me — there are more like you," the man said softly.
I turned around to see the man in a black trench coat. I ran up to him and he opened his arms as I approached. My escape from this hell is because of the man before me.
"Thank you," I whispered, my voice breaking.
Maybe this time, I wouldn't have to be alone.
Vigil
I had won. Thirty-five guards lay where I had left them. I glared at them. Pathetic. I tore the map off the wall, memorizing the other warehouse locations.
I walked down the stairs and caught a whiff of gunpowder. The smoke still rose from the chaos. Normally, I'd have booked it, but there was nobody nearby that could hear the chaos. Hands in my pockets, I strolled out the front door.
The sun outlined a man in a black trench coat, gun fixed on my head. A gray car sat parked behind him.
"I mean no harm," he said. "But I know how dangerous you are. You'd have killed me if given the chance."
"Fair enough. Let me guess, money?"
"I want you to join my team of vigilantes, you'd be a valuable member to have."
Chapter 1
I never really owned my life. Always being used by someone. This man was odd. I think he's wrong, good people can't be murderers. Now I'm a part of it, because of money. He just walked in and bought me from my guild. He wanted me to join a group of vigilantes but it's probably just another group of mercenaries.
He sits in a metal chair across from me. Four others sit around us.
To my right sat a sixteen year old. A happy looking kid with badly bruised eyes and a smile that battles it.
"Hello, you look like the only other kid here besides me. I hope we can become friends. What's your name?" the boy asked.
"I don't want anything to do with you, stop talking to me," I said harshly.
"Killer!" the man shouted.
I glared at him. He looks like an old cop who's still chasing the good old days.
The young man in all black caught my gaze. He looked at me as I glared at the old man and his eyes sent chills down my spine. His gaze made me want to run.
"Sorry, sir," I said sadly.
"Don't call me sir and apologize to John," the man said as he sat upright in his chair.
The young man in all black gazed at me again. I don't know why, but all of my aggression left my body when he looked in my direction.
"I'm sorry, John," I said as I looked at the ground.
He put his hand on my shoulder, looking at me with concerned eyes.
"I don't care man, and don't feel bad about it because no one cares. And I heard your name is Killer. That's pretty badass dude."
His words made me question why I was rude to him.
"Since everybody is here now, go around and introduce yourselves," the man in the trench coat said loudly.
The eighteen year old right next to him cleared his throat. He had black, messy hair and his eyes looked sunken and hollow.
"My name is Chris, and I just want to kill criminals," he said quickly before sitting back down.
John stood up next.
"Wow, I can't beat that, but my goal is to save the innocent from criminals and to make this city safe," he said.
His eyes lit up as he spoke, his tone was inspiring. I stood up next.
"I don't want to be here, I was just bought so I had no other option then being here," I said.
John and Chris stood up aggressively.
"What…you bought him. What is wrong with you? You said this was a group of vigilantes not criminals!" John yelled.
He sounded betrayed while he accused the man. John and Chris looked angry, for me. No one has ever stood up for me, it's weird that these people I don't even know are willing to fight for me.
The man postured defensively, then cleared his throat.
"No, he was a part of the assassins guild, trust me this is much better. So all of you sit down, we're not done yet," the man said.
Everyone sat back down less angered. To my left I witnessed the embodiment of sadness in human form. He hid behind a shallow smile. He spoke up nervously.
"I'm Nathan, and I don't know what my purpose is anymore. I used to push myself to get stronger so I could save people, but I don't know anymore," he said.
His figure was lean, yet strong. He wore a sweatshirt and sweatpants to hide it. The young man in all black stood up last.
"Hi, I'm Vigil and I love saving people and becoming stronger so I can save more and more people," he said with a newfound demeanor.
His charisma made me question what I originally thought of him, as if my prior thoughts were all a lie. The man stood up slowly.
"That was very interesting. My name is Victor. I want all of you to build each other up and become the strongest team of vigilantes you can be," Victor said proudly.
We all looked at one another. John looked ecstatic and ran over to the corner of the facility with bunk beds and jumped on one of the bottom bunks. Victor got up and walked out of the facility to take a call.
"This one's mine," John yelled as he pointed at a bottom bunk.
"I wanted that one, we're rolling for it John," Nathan said before jumping out of his chair and running over the beds to confront John.
Chris faced me.
"Isn't he like twenty-two years old," Chris commented.
Vigil got up and went over to the punching bags.
"We're supposed to kill, but they obviously see it as a game. They're both weak and are going to get themselves killed," I said as I glared at them wrestling for a bunk.
"Hey Killer, come help me claim this bunk from Nathan," John said playfully while rolling with Nathan.
My eyes widened. I've never been invited to anything before. John wasn't putting on a facade. I got up as Chris sat there by himself. I approached Nathan and John as they were wrestling.
"Do you guys know who I am? John, do you really want to mess with the strongest here?" I joked.
"Come get me, because I'm truly the strongest haha," John exclaimed.
After John submitted me around ten times we all took showers. The facility was so high quality there were hot showers. I let the hot water trickle down my body, maybe I deserved it.
As I got out of the shower I witnessed Vigil, still training, as I walked to my bunk. He trained with an intense ferocity, he had such purpose behind his punches.
I laid down on the bunk above Chris. It was almost time for bed and I took everything in about the day. Victor changed my life and these people he introduced me too seem like they'll stick around for a while. Before I shut my eyes I watched Vigil shut the lights off and leave the facility.
"Hey Killer, hey Killer," I heard a whisper.
"What?"
"Do you want to go on a run with me?" Chris whispered.
"Sure."
As I laced my shoes, John and Nathan laughed by the door. I'd rather run with them, not Chris. My legs moved to what I felt I wanted.
"John, can I run with you guys?" I asked.
"Absolutely, and invite Chris, but maybe not Vigil, he's still asleep," he responded.
I smiled and walked over to Chris.
"Hey Chris, I'm going to run with John and Nathan. You should come with," I offered.
Chris just sighed and shook his head. He got up and walked outside quickly. Then John and Nathan walked over to me.
"Let's go," John said.
The whole time we ran we were talking. In total it was about five miles. On the last mile John started falling out, and obviously Nathan and I had to make fun of him for it. But as we ran around the city I kept noticing glimpses of someone a few blocks away always turning his head towards us as he ran. Something felt off about the figure and I felt uneasy near the end of the run.
As we returned to the facility I noticed Chris was already back and showering while Vigil was still asleep in his bunk. I took a shower and changed right before Victor entered the facility.
"Killer and Chris get outside, I have a mission for you two," Victor demanded.
Chris and I got off our beds and followed Victor outside.
"Both of you will work together on this, tonight you will meet at the intersection of 53rd street and Cresthaven Avenue. I don't care when you do this mission, but it will be done tonight. You will save every person in the house with the house number 4453. These sex traffickers have at least three victims trapped inside the house. Your objective is to save those victims by any means necessary," Victor explained.
"How many stories is the house?" Chris asked.
"Two. Any more questions?"
"Do you have any weapons for us to use?" I asked.
"Yes, let me show you."
"I have my own," Chris said before walking away.
Victor led me back inside and over to the basement door. He unlocked it and I followed him down the cold, concrete stairs. In the middle of the room there was a massive metal table displaying a large assortment of weapons. Surrounding the table were wall lockers with all of our names imprinted on the top right of the metal doors. I smiled thinking about how much Victor prepared this place for us.
"Why are there no guns? Are they in the wall lockers?" I asked.
"I'm not going to supply any of you with guns, I know all of you have the ability to save people without the use of guns. Even if I did have guns, the majority of you'd guys prefer not to use them."
I nodded in agreement.
"Come, check out your uniform."
He led me to the locker with my name engraved on it and opened it. Victor took my uniform off of the hanger.
The uniform was a sleek black color. The top looked very slim with a tough texture. It was fitted with many pockets meant to house daggers and other throwable weapons. The bottom just looked like a normal pair of pitch black jeans. Victor rummaged through the locker and pulled out a black gaiter with some black boots.
"What do you think?" Victor asked.
"I mean, do I really deserve all of this? I am nothing special," I said sadly.
Victor sighed.
"I understand that the guild treated you as if you didn't matter and raised you as a murderer. But you are special and I see you for who you really are. You are one of us and every one of us has your back," he said as he put my uniform away.
I put out my hand to meet his.
"Thank you," I said happily as we shook hands.
Later that night Chris and I stood on a rooftop of an apartment near the house.
"So, your weapon of choice is throwing knives? But what do you have for close quarters?" Chris asked through his gaiter with his voice muffled.
"I'm going to challenge myself to just use my fists in close combat. I don't really need anything else."
He glared at me. His eyes cut through mine.
"Do you understand how stupid you sound, or are you just arrogant? Actually I don't really give a shit if you die so go and do something stupid. See if I care…Killer, your name would be pretty lackluster if you died going out on your first mission," Chris said coldly.
"I think it would be better if you would just shut the fuck up."
"That makes two of us. If you end up in trouble I want you to know I'm not saving you just because you're weak."
He starts moving towards the house quickly as an attempt to leave me behind. I sprint from rooftop to rooftop to keep up. He has a very impressive endurance which is hard to keep up with. No matter if he's sprinting or running for a long period of time his speed never wavers.
Chris stopped and stood on the rooftop right next to the house. I stopped right behind him.
"You go in the front door and I'll go in through the cellar," I said while trying to still catch my breath.
Chris nodded, we snuck down to the house. He approached the front then we split off. It reeked of piss and garbage. Holes littered the rotting walls.
I heard the front door get kicked in and I knew it was time. I throw the cellar doors open and run down the cold, concrete basement.
The room opened up and against the wall victims were lined up against the wall. Chained up, they were scared. A large man stood over them, he looked at me with a feral grin.
I threw a knife at his shooting hand. The pistol dropped, I charged him. I attempted to tackle him, but he was too large. He grabbed my head and threw me into the nearby wall. I slowly got up as he tried pulling the knife out of his hand.
I heard heavy stomping on the floor above as I approached him. My fists and shoulders raised. I started throwing punches, no reaction. I sent a barrage of punches to his stomach, he reacted by heavily guarding his body with his arms. His head was wide open, so I threw reckless hooks. No matter how many punches I landed, he was unphased.
He threw a heavy punch right on my chin.
I thought about what Chris said as I collapsed. I am a failure and no one will save me. I fell looking up at this grotesque beast ready to maul me. The murderous intent in his eyes looked at me as if I were his prey. He suddenly looked up as a figure flew down the stairs.
Chris was covered in blood from head to toe. It reminded me of my mother, her smell, that day. My mother's body, the scent of iron. My father killed her, for having me. I watched him shoot her several times. I watched my mother get killed, for wanting to feel loved. I cried, as I sat in a pool of her blood. Chris looked like her after she was shot.
Chris looked at me, then at the victims. An anger surged through his eyes as he honed in on the man.
Chris sprinted at him, knives in both hands. The man threw a punch, Chris slid under it, digging his right knife into the man's thigh. He pulled his right knife out, stabbing both knives into the man's neck, he wretched them until he fell to the ground.
Chris pulled his knives out of the lifeless man. They overflowed the sheathes with blood. Chris' pupils were very large in the dim light. His hair was no longer black, but dyed in blood. His face had a disturbing smile as he breathed heavily. Chris rummaged through the man's pockets and found a phone. He threw the phone to me.
"Call the police, and then hand the phone to one of them," Chris said.
He started unlocking their cuffs with a key he found on the man.
"Are any of you injured?"
"No, we're not injured," one of the girls said.
Chris approached me.
"Are you okay?" Chris said softly. "Are you injured?"
"No."
"I'm glad, I was afraid you were hurt really badly when I got down here. After you're done calling the police we need to leave quickly," Chris said.
When we returned to the facility everyone was in their beds asleep. Victor sat in a metal chair in the corner of the room, observing us. As he stood an expression of fear plagued his face.
"Is that your blood?" Victor asked out of concern "Tell me what happened, now."
He spoke loudly, waking up the others who were asleep.
"Yeah, everything went fine, but Killer choked up and almost got himself killed. I don't think he's ready for this and I don't need a dumbass fourteen year old kid to watch over," Chris said harshly.
Victor widened his eyes in shock. I looked down in disappointment in myself before I heard footsteps approaching me from behind.
"Killer," Victor said. "Do you really think you're ready for this?"
My chest tightened. I looked around at everything I could lose if I mess up.
John wrapped his arm around me.
"Don't worry Killer, we'll train and you'll be ready for next time, don't stress about it,"
Chris scoffed and walked off while Victor smiled.
"Don't worry Victor, we've got this," John said happily.
"Alright John, I trust you to help Killer get back on his feet," Victor ended with a sigh of relief.
I've never done good things, I'm not a good person. Does someone like me really deserve this happiness?
Chapter 2
I woke up in a dank, cold room. I'm surrounded by every other student in my class still asleep. I step over each one to exit the room. I walk down the hollow hall.
I entered the dojo with every weapon you could think of brandished on the wall. I took a katana off of the wall before I noticed someone else in the dojo with me. He was around my height with brown hair and brown eyes.
"I want a rematch," he said.
It came back to me who this was. Yesterday we were sparring and this boy was beating everyone. He started getting cocky so I wanted to humble him by challenging him in front of the whole class. I beat him with ease, but unlike anyone I've beaten before he had this look of despair. Now I find him training by himself in the middle of the night for a rematch I was not privy to.
"Sure," I said with a shrug.
He charged me immediately as he did in our first fight. There was no patience in his fighting style, only aggression and the want to kill. What was odd was his change in demeanor between duels. In the first he fought as if he was untouchable, like he couldn't be stopped. As I started winning the duel it seemed as if his only purpose in life was being ripped away. It felt like I was slowly destroying this delusional world he had built around himself. He fell to the ground after being defeated, but the way he looked up at me, the pure hatred. It scared me.
He fought now with that same hatred, his weakness was his unbridled rage. Our swords clashed, but from the start he had already lost.
When I jolted awake, the thought of his face haunted me once again. It felt like I was back in that moment, killing his dream in front of his eyes. I washed my face off and grounded myself back in reality.
The mistake I made can never happen again. I walked over to the training area and focused on improving my footwork. I decided, I have to be perfect so this will never happen again.
"I know you're busy, but I was wondering if you want to go on a run with Nathan and I?" John said.
I jolted out of my focused state, I took a minute to gather my thoughts.
"Uh, yeah, give me a minute and I'll go," I mumbled.
"Damn, you were really going at it. Just meet us outside when you're ready, we'll be waiting for you."
I quickly took a shower and got dressed out of excitement to spend some more time with my boys. When I walked outside Nathan and John stopped talking to look towards me.
"Killer, your determination is making me want to get after it. Good stuff," Nathan said kindly.
"Thanks, how about we start?" I asked.
His compliment made me very uncomfortable. I had no idea how to respond to something that kind.
We started the run and I was trying to push the pace. Nathan kept up, but John was falling out again. John caught back up with a newfound determination.
"Killer and Nathan, do you kill every criminal you run into?" he choked up barely getting his words out.
"Do you not kill?" I asked.
"No, I use two escrima sticks to incapacitate, but not to kill. I think you guys should really try not to kill. I think everyone in this world deserves to live and their fate should be put in the hands of the justice system. Not put in our hands."
Nathan and I looked at each other as John started to fall back out.
"I mean, I've never really thought about it past survival," Nathan said.
I went silent as I came to the conclusion that they both will judge me if I'm hones,zz xxt with them. Nathan and I finished our run lost in our own thoughts, but for different reasons.
When I entered the facility I made my decision. Maybe if I stop killing, I'd finally be someone worth caring about. I wanted to feel loved.
A few days later I woke up in the middle of the night. I went to go to the bathroom before I witnessed Victor come crashing through the door. He rushed over to me as I stared at him confused.
"Killer, get John you're both going immediately to an apartment complex nearby. There are armed gang members causing a disturbance there. This is your chance to redeem yourself," Victor said out of breath.
I got John up and we sprinted to the complex hopping from rooftop to rooftop. John unsheathed his escrima sticks, and I wrapped my hands in muay thai ropes as we approached the complex.
"You ready, Killer? I'm glad you've decided not to kill anymore, it says a lot about your character."
"John, you are an amazing friend. You inspired me to change for the better. I will have your back no matter what."
"You are the reason you're changing for the better my brother. Before I left Victor briefed me and said the gang members were harassing people from floor one to five while being armed with guns. To save as many people as possible I will start clearing the complex out from the bottom and you start from the top, got it?"
I nodded before we split paths. I noticed a ladder leading to the top floor of the complex so I sprinted towards it.
I grabbed the top rung of the ladder, and vaulted over the half wall. I landed in the exterior corridor of the complex. Two men with pistols aimed at a scared kid with brown hair. The kid backed up, locking his eyes with mine. I sprinted towards him before the gang members pulled their triggers. Time slowed and the sound of the gunshots echoed throughout the complex.
The kid laid lifeless on his stomach as the men fixed their pistols on me. I lunged left, then right, and charged the closest one. This man was much smaller than the one I encountered in the basement. His hand was shaking as I took control of the pistol in his hand with my left. I yanked the pistol toward me, setting him off balance. My right elbow crashed into his cheek. The pistol eased out of his hands. One more stands in front of me. I threw the pistol. The weight of it left my hand. The sound cracked his skull.
I lunged towards him as he stumbled backwards from the pistol hitting his face. I grabbed his gun with my left as I relentlessly punched wherever he wasn't blocking. I stopped once his grip left the gun in my hands only.
I looked at the other man as he rose back up with his legs shaking. I sent a side kick into his liver as he raised both hands to surrender, making him fall right back down to the ground.
My ropes dripped with blood, but this time I hadn't killed anyone. It felt good knowing I was getting closer to John and Nathan by not killing. It's not that big of a sacrifice since I feel indifferent towards killing.
I glanced back at the lifeless kid to find him gone. In front of me he stood with his eyes piercing into mine as he plunged a knife deep into my stomach. At that moment I realized who the kid was because of that look. That hatred.
His torso was soaked in blood. The gunshots were targeted towards non-lethal areas of his body. I groaned as he forced the knife deeper.
I couldn't believe my eyes, I thought this kid was dead. Why is he here now? I grabbed both of his shoulders and headbutted him with the little amount of strength I had left. He stumbled backwards and started to laugh.
"We're both dying Killer, and your only instinct is to kill. And my only instinct is to kill you," he yelled manically.
I had to use all of my strength to breathe properly. Where he plunged the knife was on fire. He rubbed his forehead and looked at the blood on his hand. He slowly got back to his feet as we stared intently at each other. It was all I could do, my will to fight was gone. His eyes stung into mine with that same hatred I saw many years ago.
"Killer, I will kill you. It is my only reason for living, for pushing myself. I fucking hate you, and while I'm training to kill you I find you playing superhero. After everything? You don't kill anymore?" he struggled to finish as he tried to hold pressure on his wounds. "I would love to see what the horde of people you've killed would think about that. You're worthless. When I kill you, no one will remember who you were — or forgive you for what you've done."
A twisted smile spread across his face.
"Since you want to larp and roleplay, you'll need a villain, right? So call me Lifesaver," he yelled while backing away. "This no kill bullshit won't last for long because I promise you, when we meet again, either you die or I die. And if you don't kill me I will never stop coming for you until one of us goes."
I fell to my knees and curled up. I felt defeated. I finally try to become something more than a mindless murderer, and this happens. He quietly left my view before someone approached me from behind. I felt hands grab me, and I looked up to see Chris. He looked so scared and worried for me.
Maybe this is what I get for trying to change too late.
"Oh no, no no no. Don't worry Killer I'll get you help, you'll be fine I'm here for you man just stay awake," he said with his voice shaking.
He got under my shoulder and lifted me. I groaned as the pain spread throughout my whole body. It burned all over and walking made it so much worse. Chris tried to make me as comfortable as he could while walking me.
When we went down the flights of stairs I witnessed multiple unconscious bodies scattered around John as we approached him. John stands over one of them beating him into the ground. John turns back and looks at me in horror. His eyes locked onto the knife laying dormant in my stomach.
"You're going to be fine, Killer. We'll save you," John said as he ran over to me and got under my other arm.
They hurried me to the ground floor where Victor was waiting by his car. He opened the door for me before John and Chris carefully put me in the backseat. Victor shut the car door and told Chris and John something before they ran off.
He hastily got into the driver's seat before driving us back to the facility in a jagged route. I rolled over groaning constantly, I couldn't deal with the pain as my eyes slowly shut.
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