As the sounds of gunshots rang, almost immediately a bright, blinding light filled the room.
A flash grenade. The cultists, momentarily stunned, blinded by the white light, halted their fire, trying to rub the darkness out of their eyes.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Before the temporary blindness could wear off, they fell to the ground simultaneously, blood dripping from bullet wounds in their heads.
Five seconds, three shots. Alaric hadn't wasted any time.
He shot them before they could retaliate.
The High Priest, who had just recovered from the flash grenade, turned to his people, certain the gunshots were from them, but instead found them lying motionless in pools of their own blood.
His eyes widened behind the mask, his gaze slowly, almost hesitantly, shifting toward the sound of heavy breathing.
The only sound, louder than the crackling of fire and the muffled cries of the boy by his side.
Alaric's breathing.
He lay on his stomach, bloody hands gripping a pistol pointed at the High Priest.
Mark's pistol, which he had found on his extra belt.
The priest unconsciously gulped.
He was next.
Bang!
The bullet tore through the still air of the cave, piercing the left thigh of the priest.
"Ahh!" he let out a pained screech, falling to the ground, rolling as if he were on fire.
From this alone, it was evident this was his first time experiencing pain, not that anyone could easily shake off a bullet wound.
Alaric did not let up. He needed to keep him immobilized.
He didn't have the strength to move now and had to make sure the leader didn't move as well.
Bang! Bang!
He fired several more rounds, all hitting the priest's limbs, one grazing the side of his stomach, a shallow wound.
Alaric could have killed him easily, but death was too good for someone like that.
The High Priest lay in a pool of his own blood, face contorted in pain beneath the mask, screaming at the top of his lungs.
Alaric finally letting out a sigh of relief.
"Let me rest for a while." He let go of the gun, rolling onto his back, breaths slow.
"Just a few seconds."
He closed his eyes but almost immediately forced them open.
He couldn't sleep now. The mission wasn't over.
And with his wounds, if he closed his eyes, he might sleep for days, or worse, never wake again.
"Argh," he groaned in pain as he raised himself with a rake, using it as support.
His body was battered and bruised, blood covering half his face, his right leg barely usable. He didn't know when, but they had broken it.
Numerous cuts marred his gown, most piercing through his camouflage uniform underneath and into his flesh.
Struggling to move, he looked like the lone survivor of a civil war, though what he had gone through wasn't far off.
Weakly, he dragged himself to the elevated platform, plopping his battered body onto the ground.
"Hey… are you alright?" he asked as he helped remove the gag from the last survivor.
The boy cried, his words incoherent, but Alaric was sure he was thanking him.
"It's my job." Alaric smiled weakly, turning his gaze to the other child he couldn't save.
Her lifeless body lay on the altar, and with the amount of blood pooled beneath her, one didn't need to be a doctor to know there was nothing that could be done.
"This scum…" Alaric turned to the priest, who was wailing like a child as he lay helpless in his own blood.
"Help me up," Alaric said to the boy, who nodded with a serious expression.
"Maybe he doesn't speak English," Alaric thought, as the boy didn't reply, only nodding, unaware that trauma had rendered him speechless.
He was just a teenager, barely sixteen, his life stained crimson from the green he once knew in a matter of days.
Horrors that could never be portrayed in movies had been witnessed with his own eyes.
He was the last to be sacrificed and had seen it all.
The boy helped Alaric to the priest's side, his body trembling the whole time.
Alaric understood what the boy was going through and wanted to say something, but he remembered he wasn't a therapist.
He would make sure one was provided after this.
"Hello, holy one," Alaric mocked, gesturing for the boy to step back as he leaned closer.
"Just kill me… kill me," the priest cried, unable to endure the humiliation and pain.
"Oh? You want to die…" Alaric feigned surprise, a hand to his temple as he pretended to ponder.
"Let me see your face first."
He removed the bull mask, his pupils dilating in surprise.
"You're quite the looker," he said sincerely.
Curly black hair, tanned skin, hazel eyes, and a sharp jawline.
"You look familiar…" Alaric paused as recognition dawned in his gaze.
He knew who this was.
He looked like a younger replica of the Minister of Defense.
The Minister of Defense's son.
His eyes widened as realization struck.
If this truly was the Minister of Defense's son, then this was deeper than he could imagine.
If it truly was him, then everything made sense.
Why the cult had never been fully uprooted, despite the country having the means.
Even now, he alone had carried out a counterterrorism (CT) operation.
A handful of soldiers could have cleared this place. A platoon or two would have been enough to root out the problem.
Yet the cult had been tolerated.
"These scum!" He gritted his teeth in rage, remembering all the innocent deaths, all the chaos these people had caused.
"What have I been fighting for..." The anger slowly died as he thought of his life until now.
He had been fighting for twenty years now.
He knew he was a pawn, but for the greater good, but now...
What was he?
What had he been doing all this while?
Following orders?
Orders from people standing on the side he was meant to fight.
The same side that had killed his family all those years ago.
He felt like a chess piece on a board with a single player.
There was never an opponent.
"How could they do this, weren't we suppose to protect innocent lives " he gritted his teeth struggling to his feet, the boy helping him.
Memories of all the chaos the occult group had caused in the world surfaced in his mind.
So many innocent deaths, and they were all the doing of his superior, he was just a clown all these while.
"I will grant you the death you wished for," he pointed the gun at the priest, the rage in his eyes gone, though it was very much there.
"You will do no such thing," a voice thundered from the entrance of the cave. Following it was his squadron commander.
" You have come to clean up your mess" Alaric chuckled to himself, a strange glint in his eyes.
The squadron commander was basically the boss of his boss.
One didn't need to be Einstein to realize he was in on it, as missions were issued by him.
He was here to silence him before anyone else found out.
Alaric sighed internally, remembering the kids above ground, his gaze shifting to the boy beside him, who was still visibly trembling.
He then looked at the crackling flames, the bodies crumbling under the heat.
"These scum all need to die." His brows furrowed in rage and bang!.
He pulled the trigger, one shot, a shot to the preist head.
" What have you done soldier" the platoon commander roared in rage but quickly gathered himself as he noticed the others behind him.
Brows creased in frustration, he pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Get him medical treatment. We'll send him for questioning."
Several minutes later, medics stepped into the cave.
They took the boy out, leaving Alaric alone with the commander, his wounds bandaged.
"I guess my time is up," Alaric thought to himself, sure he will be silenced.
He had resigned himself to his fate, there was nothing he could do now.
His weapons were seized, and he was too battered to fight his superior, not that he would anyway.
"Sir, please, how are my comrades?" Alaric inquired about Mark and the rest.
He had to make sure that all was good before they silenced him.
"They are outside…" The commander turned to him, his expression cold. "You truly have guts, Silva. Performing an unauthorized CT all on your own and succeeding at that not to mention you went against a direct order from me." he added, his expression unchanged.
"Service for the country, sir," Alaric replied with a smile.
One that the commander was sure was mocking.
"I am willing to take my punishment, but I hope the children are all safe," he inquired again, his tone formal.
"They are. Most have already been sent off the island," the commander replied, brows raised.
Though Alaric spoke formally, his relaxed expression said otherwise.
He could tell Alaric had deduced everything and was just waiting for his death.
"Thank goodness. He wouldn't harm them now that I've already saved them, and I bet most of my comrades aren't aware of this, or else he wouldn't have come down himself," Alaric thought, breathing a sigh of relief.
If the commander had decided to kill everyone here, his inevitable death would have been meaningless.
"I feel you know what will happen to you now, right? You've seen too much," the commander said.
"Yes…" Alaric replied with a smirk.
"But sir, if I may," he requested to speak.
The commander nodded.
"You are scum, filth lesser than feces, demon in human skin... Sir, may you die without redemption and enjoy a seat by the devil's side " Alaric yelled, yet his tone was still formal, leaving the commander's mouth agape.
The squadron commander's cold expression broke into disbelief.
He hadn't expected this. Most would have pleaded, said they would keep the secret. A few might fight back. Even fewer accepted their fate.
Yet he chose to die cursing him out, the only thing he could do.
"Hahahaha… I like your guts, Silva," the commander said, pointing a gun at Alaric's forehead.
A gun he had taken earlier from the crime scene, his gloved hands protecting him from leaving any fingerprints.
"Well, I don't like you, you scum." Alaric's tone changed, his expression one of indignation and disgust.
"See you in hell then."
The commander pulled the trigger. Alaric's head jerked back, the bullet exiting from the back, brain matter spraying.
He fell to the ground.
His vision blurred, the light of the world fading, the sight of the commander's retreating figure darkening as his soul left his body.
His last thought: "Well, at least I redeemed myself, Maria."
His vision blackened, or at least that was what he thought, but as soon as it did, he noticed something, an eerily pulsating red light at the end of the dark tunnel.
"Is that hell?"
~~~~
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(• ◡•) A/N.
Done with the prequel, i wanted it to feel like a short story, like appetizer before a meal.
Hope you enjoyed it.
Don't forget to show support (´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`)
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