by Dave Welch
I front kicked the refrigerator door into him.
He stumbled, slicing down with his sword.
I reopened the freezer as he swiped the door in two, filleting a portion of my thigh away.
I lost my balance as he kicked me into the oven, cracking my sternum.
I dropped the freezer door.
Scattering contents everywhere, I sidestepped as he stabbed into the oven behind me.
Jerking the oven door open, I busted his blade while snatching the oven rack out.
Thwack!
I pulverized his face as the blow vibrated the rack from my hand.
He yanked his broken blade from the oven as I sprinted by, reaching for the front door.
He grabbed me by the nightgown, and I slid to a stop.
My feet passed over my head as he launched me back into the oven.
“NNNooooo!!!”
Blaf!
I melted down the oven door as it slammed shut.
Somehow, I stood to my feet as he mended his sword to anew.
He attacked from close quarters. I ducked and dodged for my life.
He stabbed for the kill, thrusting his sword for my stomach. I clapped my hands around his blade, counterbalancing the strength of his push.
Aligning myself with his sword, I lifted parallel with exquisite balance.
The frictional heat scorched through my palms as I cartwheeled over his shoulder.
I ducked into a tumble as he swung over my head, cutting into the countertop.
Rolling to the edge of the kitchen island, I stood, snatching the saber knife from the counter.
We turned in unison as I pitched the knife through the air.
“Hah!”
Szat!
The blade bashed into his face, pinning him to the side of the refrigerator.
I dashed feebly for my freedom.
The 2nd Assassin came fast, flailing those bladed nunchucks.
“Fuck!!” I whaled, ducking and dodging.
I spun around her, landing my back against the wall next to the kitchen entrance.
She swung to claim my soul as her counterpart squabbled against the fridge.
She struck quickly, slicing the wall into shreds.
She diced across my belly.
“AAgghh!!!” I screamed.
Blood splattered to the floor as the 1st Assassin wrenched the knife from his face.
The 2nd Assassin cut me with lightning-fast attacks.
I fainted as she cut me across the face. The laceration was so deep that it jolted me from my fainting, only to see her final blow to my head.
In my defeat, I fell to the floor, covering my face.
She cut through the wall like a slicer as I stumbled into a sprint for the door.
I was inches away when a strange commotion rumbled up behind me. It sounded like a factory creating something evil and grand.
I grabbed the doorknob, but before I could unlock it, my back opened- from my ass to my head.
That was the cut…
But the wind behind the cut followed with a barbaric gust, flying me away from the door.
Ssskkkkkkttttt!
“Aahhhh!!” I screamed, soaring through the air and back into the living room.
I crushed into the floor.
They were coming for me.
I crawled over the smushed fruits as the Assassins spoke from the kitchen in some unknown tongue.
At this moment, my vision blurred. That last cut was bad. Really bad. The blood was immense. It wouldn’t be long before I bled out.
I was dying.
Suddenly, my urge to live returned with a boost of adrenaline that I didn’t expect.
My bleeding slowed and my pains vanished.
Something’s up with me. I felt like I was on crack.
I batted my eyes.
As my vision became crisp, I noticed the keys to my car on the floor next to the duffel bag of arsenals.
I stumbled to my feet. Yanking up the keys and the duffle bag, I hurtled over the couch in front of the balcony, ducking down behind it.
I tied the keys up into the strings of my nightgown. Then, I equipped myself with a couple of weapons from the duffel bag. I peeped over the couch to see the assassins entering the living room.
My blood painted over the floor around me. I started crying. I’m losing, and I can’t do anything about it.
“I’m going to yank your spine from that incision.”
I knew that was her speaking. That Amazonian machine of war was the only thing that cut me so bad.
Her voice was foxy but void of an accent. It was like a computerized recording.
“Fuck you, bitch!!” I hollered while loading the weapons.
I heard them speaking again in a voice that I couldn’t interpret—and I spoke five languages. Six with Ebonics. Then I heard one of them yell, so I yelled back.
“Okay! I’m loaded!!”
I popped up like whack-a-mole, firing the automatic rifles.
The hollow points flew freely as the 2nd Assassin deflected the speeding bullets with her bladed nunchaku.
She fled back into the kitchen as her counterpart ran up the wall, darting right for me.
I fired with my impeccable aim, hitting him at least ten times as the bullets bounced around the room.
The shells chimed against the hardwood as the merc jumped from the wall, swinging his sword for my head.
I ducked, chucking the rifles, then grabbed the duffel bag.
As he landed in front of me, I caught him dead in the face.
Wham!
I swung so hard that we both fell.
Dropping the bag from my waning grip, I squabbled to my feet, slipping in my own blood.
I spat in his face as his counterpart sprinted over.
I dove for the pistol grip sticking out of the duffle bag, but the bag heisted into the air.
I glanced up at the 2nd Assassin crouching on top of the sofa. She stood, tossing the duffel bag across the room.
Fwoom!!
It crashed into the front door as her counterpart sat up, shaking his head.
I slipped to the floor. Rolling over from my stomach, I crab walked backwards. With my eyes fixed on her, my head banged suddenly against the balcony door. I panted, slowly propping myself up against the glass as my blood drained away.
She squatted on top of the couch with her bladed nunchaku dangling menacingly.
I peeked over to see the 1st assassin standing to his feet.
I watched them both as I bleed from the distinct cut down my back. The agony raced through my body.
My doubt bubbled to steam, with blood flowing everywhere. I was done for— Wait a minute…
I should’ve been dead. What the hell’s happening here?
My pain repellent upgraded, and with ghostly aspirations.
I batted my eyes.
“What do you want?” I asked.
I was under the impression that they were searching for the device.
But no…
“Your head,” she replied, slicing for my neck.
Dodging the attack, I leapt to my feet, and I rushed that hoe. Screaming in a rage!
She spun atop the couch with a roundhouse kick, crashing me through the glass door.
Blaasssh!
I plowed through the balcony railing like a bulldozer egressing a damp Kleenex.
I gripped onto the metal railing with my good hand. My other hand was too damaged.
Everyone saw me dangling as this beautiful morning blossomed. Well, at least that’s what I thought.
I glanced down to envision my public’s eye, thinking that I might hear voices of concern, like ‘No!’ or ‘Don’t do it!’ But no one was there.
I mean, no one. Not even a single soul.
None of my fellow agents bothered to assist me. Where the hell were they anyway? I know they heard me doing all that damn shooting and falling and shit.
No ‘thank you-s’. No nothing.
Oh, don't worry about Canieya. I’m good guys!
Thank you! And fuck you too.
Jackasses!
The bolts and clamps began to give as the railing bent from my clumsy weighting.
My blood covered my eyes and drained down my back, dripping into the streets below.
The 2nd Assassin stepped through the broken glass door and stood about three feet away from me. Her counterpart stood within the shadows of the suite, blending in with the darkness.
The bitch queen retracted the blades into her dense nunchakus. She put them in a holster on the back of her chunky belt.
“I forgot to tell you about Layian telepathy, Ms. Lawson. Of course, it is not that useful when a foe possesses the same skill of a greater caliber. But, to the simple-minded, it could prove to be… How should I say, very effective? Here, let me give you an example.” She hissed, like a bitch ass snake.
I hate her robotron voice.
I was disturbed beyond reason now, but I wasn’t about to let go of this railing.
Cause Bookie…
The thought of her encouraged my every sense of motivation. And what the hell is Layian telepathy? I pondered as the questionable thought answered itself.
“Szexta.” She uttered with her vile voice.
And with ease, my index finger lifted from my closed grip.
“Agh!” I stammered.
I tried to close my fist, but a pain rendered me incapable.
The agony was so appalling, not even I would care to endure.
“Exteq.” The demonic witch whispered.
I gazed at my hand as if it were guilty of betrayal. Then, my middle finger lifted, subsiding my grip even more.
“Oh, God…” I passionately replied, glancing at the streets below.
I tried grabbing the railing with my bad hand, but it just couldn’t support me.
The only thing I could think of was to lift myself up with one hand. Then I could prop my foot upon the ledge and possibly sprint for the door.
I lifted slowly just as that pain returned. This time, it struck twice as fast and with no remorse.
I returned to a resting dangle as my grip slipped…
I looked to the ground and back to my hand with complete incredulity, not expecting an ending such as this. But I had no control over her telepathy.
Have I lost everything?
“Zxqvs,” she added with a threatening tone.
Just then, all of my fingers lifted from the railing, magically spreading to an open. It was crazy cause it felt like my grip was still intact. And all because of the curses spilling from that bitch’s ratchet mouth.
This morning began with my plausible finesse of passing, and with no captains stepping in to save me.
Suddenly…
From the dark, expelled my desire to devour.
I batted my eyes.
And with a fiery zeal, I blossomed enough ‘juice’ for one last ride. One last godly explosion of good.
I was gonna eat…
Them.
Alive
CHAPTER 3:
Arlo Crane
How to Evolve
New York, New York
August 5, 2025
Canieya been crazy!
I’m speaking from my own perspective here.
Chicks don't ever tell the whole story.
Of course, I took the bullets out of my gun.
Do you honestly think I would give her a loaded weapon?
I’m crazy, but I ain’t that crazy.
Shiidddd, for a minute there, I saw my life flash before my eyes, training there in her backyard.
After she pulled the trigger, I started laughing. She looked down at the gun as if it had malfunctioned. I stood with my hand out, smiling as I approached her cautiously.
She pulled the trigger again and again.
“You jackass!” She shouted.
“I know, baby…”
Canieya threw the gun at me like she was pitching a baseball. I caught it gracelessly.
“You Fuck!” She blurted
“Okay. Lawson… I was just kidding,” I hollered as she stormed off to the house.
“I needed to know! … Baybay!!”
She kept going, slamming the door behind her.
I could tell I had pinched a nerve. Maybe I had taken her training a bit too far. But she knew how I felt about her for real. At least, I thought she did.
I followed her into the house.
As I opened the back door, I called with a concerned voice, “Cani-”
-Crash!
I ducked as a vase hurtled into the wall.
“What the fuck!” I screamed, staying down behind a nearby couch.
“I trusted you! And you took that trust, and you tore it to shreds! I could stab the living shit out of you right now,” she screamed.
I put my hands in the air while still crouching behind the sofa.
“I’m sorry, baby! I needed to know you were ready.”
“Stay the fuck away from me!”
I could hear her stomping through the house and kicking into the bedroom.
“Baybay!” I shouted out but she responded with a bunch of commotion.
“Canniiieyyyaaa!” I hollered.
“Fuck you!” She retorted.
I slowly popped my head up from behind the couch to see if the coast was clear.
It was.
I walked carefully to the bedroom, where I could hear blustering in such ill-bred displeasure.
“I should’ve had you arrested a long time ago. You are my enemy, Crane. You tried to kill me. You threatened a police officer!”
“Yeah, but you are still alive, and you still love me, Lawson.”
“It’s overrated.”
“Are you bleeding, Canieya? Did I break any of your bones?”
“That’s not the point. Fuck face!”
I had approached the edge of the bedroom doorway with my back still against the wall. “I wouldn’t dare hurt you, Lawson.”
“Shittin’ me!” She blurted. “I’m so pissed right now. This or that, what just happened, or what's still happening… It's too real. I’m convinced!”
“I went too far…Okay, okay Canieya. I said I was sorry…” I whispered with a kind voice.
I entered the room slowly to catch a glimpse of her packing her clothes. I didn’t want her to leave because I was too in love with her, so I did the next best thing, which may have been stupid.
“Alright!” I said. “I’ll let you take me in…Straight up. Just don’t leave me.”
The pace of her packing slowed. Then I heard her mumbling something with her back still turned away. I couldn’t understand her. I was still gazing at her ass and her curves. I wanted to take that booty hostage.
“I hate you. You are the bad guy,” she proclaimed. “You are the man that my mother warned me about, and I will be damned for an eternity before I let you ruin me.”
“Damn it, Lawson, you passed the test!” I bellowed.
“Fuck yo’ test! Damn you, Crane! Damn you!” She exploded.
She started loading her clothes violently into her suitcase. She was heated. I mean really heated.
“Canieya,” I said softly.
“Canieya!”
“No. Not this time,” she countered.
I shrieked at the thought of losing her. And my thinking had become loose and snappy.
“We’ve been training vigorously for five years. Now I know I have done a lot of bad things. Stupid things.”
“Shut up, Crane,” she inserted. “Your voice, your words are deadly poisons.”
“Let me finish,” I begged.
She whirled around briefly to see me standing in the doorway.
“I am a criminal, the bad guy. I get it. It’s just that I expect so much from you. I want you to be just as great at being a law enforcer as I am at being a lawbreaker. I know it sounds crazy, but this glue has sat for too long, Lawson. You can’t just rip us apart because of one of
my blundering choices. I refuse to believe you couldn’t see my true intentions here. I mean… What, no… How did you expect this union to end?” I wondered.
She stared at me for a while as I stood there waiting for her to answer. Then she snatched up her oversized luggage and stormed towards me.
I stood fast, tensing up to embrace her bulldozing demeanor. She stopped dead in my face.
“Tell me you don’t love me,” I cooed.
“Move,” she mumbled.
I stared into her eyes as they began to tear up.
“Aren’t you going to take me in?” I asked.
She didn’t say a word. She just stood directly in my face. I could feel her breathing against my skin. Her hands shook with a hint of impatience.
I looked down at her luggage as the zipper handles trembled against each other. This light, clanging sound reminded me of the occurrence. I closed my eyes, and an overwhelming gust of humbleness accessed my coiling sanity.
I traumatized her. I didn’t mean to, but I didn’t use any empathy during my so-called testing. I had literally done too much, and now, building up a resistance would only add insult to her injuries. As bad as I didn’t want to lose her, I had to discover what it meant to feel… Not just for me, but for the people around me and the people that mattered.
I was still hesitating as she stood in front of me, glaring into my eyes and still shaking. Finally, I couldn’t hold her up any longer.
I dropped my head and stepped aside while looking at the carpeted floor.
She stood still, and I could feel her head and eyes follow me as I stepped out of the way.
“I want your shit out of my house,” she grumbled, breathing fiercely.
I felt a slap coming. I tensed up in preparation. This suspenseful trail of waiting racked my conscience to madness.
“Okay…” I whispered.
I then waited and waited on that slap, but she just stared. Nothing happened.
I didn’t know what was running through her head. I just knew it was over. Her training and I were both finished.
Her fierce blaze of breathing eased into a gentle, efficient flow of sweet air. Then I felt it again—a tensing like none other. I just knew that slap was coming. But, instead, she firmly grabbed her luggage and stormed out of the bedroom.
I heard her stomping towards the front door.
Without hesitation, she yanked the door open and slammed it behind her.