Instantly, before Spencer was even capable of registering what he had just done, the room exploded with the sound of a thunderous bang that left him disoriented and shocked. His arms hung high in the air from the recoil of the pistol, and his ears rang with a high-pitched whine as he stared frozen in front of him with a blank stare. It was only after the muted sound of a terrified scream that Spencer partially regained his senses. He looked around the room, utterly dazed and unprepared for the sight that befell him.
Unsurprisingly, both women who had previously been asleep now sat before him wide awake, their faces twisted in alarm. In unison, as they stared towards him with unabashed horror and fear etched across their faces, they released a deafening wail that, if not for his ears already ringing, would have left him nearly deaf. Even so, Spencer gave the two women only a passing glance.
Instead, Spencer's attention drifted between them, where, with burning, vitriol-filled eyes, Ferdinand too lay awake, glaring back at him with murderous intent. A sight that would have filled him with unmatched dread had it not been for one large, glaring detail. Ferdinand was bleeding–bleeding heavily. Dark crimson blood violently surged from his bare, scar-ridden stomach, from a wound no larger than a penny, which sat exactly where Spencer's pistol had previously been trained.
"You fucking bastard!" Ferdinand eventually growled, his voice devoid of fear despite the obscene amount of blood he continued to lose, soaking the already crimson sheets he rested upon.
It was those words that finally snapped Spencer out of the dazed trance he'd been in. Realising what he had done, and unsure how long he'd just been standing there like a fool, Spencer did the one thing he could think of. He ran. With every ounce of strength, he burst out of the room in a wild panic, smashing the bedroom door open and sprinting down the hallway in a matter of seconds. Unfortunately, despite the speed at which he ran, he was simply too late.
In mounting horror, Spencer watched as the doors lining the hallway began to slowly creak open. From within, a flood of gang members began to emerge, no doubt having been awoken by the gunfire and shrill screeching still going on from Ferdinand's room. Confusion and alarm etched themselves onto their groggy faces as they scanned the hallway for some understanding of what was going on. Yet at the sight of Spencer's retreating figure and the pistol still gripped within his hand, such confusion didn't last for long.
"Attack! We're being attacked!"
"It's a bastard from Cross Roads!"
"They've shot the boss!"
"He's heading for the stairs! Fucking kill him!"
A cacophony of shouts and screams erupted as Spencer ran manically forward. Behind him, an ensuing mob quickly began to form, chasing after him and hastening his steps–each one more frantic than the last. To say that Spencer was terrified would be putting it mildly. And his terror only worsened as the violent cries were soon joined by deafening gunfire that left his ears once again ringing as he instinctively ducked his head in a panicked bid to evade.
Luckily, due to the narrowness of the hallway, only those at the front of the mob could actually fire their weapons towards him without risking injury to their own. It was the only reason he hadn't immediately become riddled with bullets. Even so, as the mob grew in size and started to close the distance between them, it was hard for Spencer to consider himself truly lucky.
Once again, for the second time that night, he wished he had focused more on his health and cardio as his lungs began to burn and his muscles throbbed. Still, he continued to run down the never-ending corridor with everything he had, ducking and flinching at the occasional round being fired his way. Yet as he did so, despite his heightened fear and the terror that circled his mind and left him a panicked mess, one question kept repeating itself in his mind. Why the hell hadn't the silencer on his pistol worked?
However, before he could delve further into such a question, Spencer's eyes lit up with hope as he turned the final corner and spotted the descending oak stairs leading to the exit. Yet that relief vanished almost instantly, chased away by the sound of clambering gang members right on his heels. Immediately, Spencer realised he didn't have time to make his way down the stairs, at least not the ordinary way. This left him with only one option.
As he neared the edge of the stairs, Spencer bit his lips in apprehension as he prepared himself for what he was about to do. Inside him, a panicked voice screamed to reconsider. He didn't. The moment he reached the edge of the stairs, he didn't slow his stride. Instead, ignoring every fibre in his body screaming at him to stop, he hurled himself down the stairs with a humongous leap, soaring through the air as a bellowed shout tore from his throat.
Unfortunately, as expected, while jumping was easy, landing was anything but. With a thunderous crash, Spencer collapsed onto the floor as his legs failed to handle the excess force of his fall. He tumbled heavily over the floorboards, leaving his entire body battered and bruised as he lay there groaning in pain. Yet despite the pain, a small grin played across his now bare face, the colourful bandana he'd been wearing having fallen off during the dive and come to lie on the floor. It had worked. He'd managed to widen the gap between him and the horde of men seeking his death.
Yet despite the pain, a small grin played across his now bare face, the colourful bandana he'd been wearing having fallen off during the dive and come to rest on the floor."
Quickly, he began to stand back up with a wobble, already hearing the ensuing mob as they started to catch back up. By the time he was able to continue his escape through the building, the leading gang members had already started racing down the stairs. None of them, however, dared to replicate his suicidal jump.
Unlike the corridor above, it didn't take long for Spencer to reach the end of the hallway. There he was met with the same crossroad he'd encountered previously, with one path leading to the party room from before and the other to the back exit: his way to freedom. It was a sight that sent a spike of excitement through his system as Spencer realised how close he was to escaping the building. After all, he believed that once he made it outside and could hide among the plethora of abandoned buildings in the vicinity, his chances of getting away alive would be far higher.
However, such excitement was soon replaced with rising dread as he prepared to round the corner toward the back exit and was met with a horrifying sight. It appeared that the commotion had drawn the attention of not only the gang members inside but also those who had been positioned outside as well. Making their way from the back entrance, two gang members could be seen advancing in Spencer's direction, their weapons drawn. At first, upon seeing one another, both groups froze–Spencer in fear, the two gang members in confusion, unsure of what was going on. Only at the sound of the quickly advancing mob did Spencer finally react.
As quickly as he could, before the gang members in front of him could react, Spencer spun around, heading down the only remaining path, which led to the large hall-like room he had seen before. No sooner had he done so than more agitated yells echoed behind him, as the two gang members joined in the chase, letting loose further, sporadic gunfire in his direction.
Doing his best to ignore just how close such gunfire impacted the walls around him, Spencer began to rack his brain for other possible exits now that the back door was no longer an option. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, the only other option he could think of was the front entrance on the other side of the building, an entrance whose exact location he didn't actually know. Alas, unable to think of another way out of the building that didn't involve a body bag, he could only grit his teeth and pray he would get lucky in finding it.
It was then that Spencer finally reached and entered the large, hall-like room he had peeked inside earlier. As he did so, he quickly disregarded its now trashed appearance, ignoring the tipped-over pool table and mystery liquids splashed all across the room. Instead, his eyes locked onto the open door on the other side of the room, the only other one he could see and which he could only hope would lead to the front entrance. With every bit of remaining strength that he had, as he ignored the shooting pains running up both his legs and chest, Spencer charged his way towards the door. Sadly, it simply wasn't enough.
Before he could make it even halfway across the room, he was forced to watch in terror as two more gang members suddenly emerged from the door in front of him. Spencer froze, fear and despair immediately gripping his heart as he saw his only exit now blocked and heard the raging crowd behind him begin to enter the room. He was surrounded. Desperately, as the guards in front of him began to raise their weapons, he swung his head from side to side, searching for somewhere he could possibly hide. It was then, as every part of his brain scrambled for some way he could possibly survive, that he looked to his right. There, he was met with a large, open-view window, revealing the pitch black sky outside.
At that moment, a lightbulb went off in Spencer's mind as he gazed upon the window only a few feet away. Hope wasn't lost. Realising this, without wasting a second–not even to reflect on what he was about to do–he began to move. This was it. He would either succeed and escape or fail and die. And God, was Spencer praying for the first.
Just as he was about to reach the window, the sound of terrifying gunfire once more echoed behind him. Only this time, Spencer was unable to fully avoid it. Before he could react, a burning pain spread throughout his left shoulder, leaving him wanting to scream in agony as he almost collapsed onto the trash-filled floor. Yet, despite such pain, a pain he had never experienced before, he pushed forward, taking two more final steps to reach his target. It was then, with everything he had, as bullets continued to rain behind him, that he let loose a massive leap, directly towards the window.
Shards of glass rained in all directions as Spencer made impact and smashed his way through into the outside world, landing on the concrete floor with a thump. Quickly, he pushed himself up to a stand, biting his lip so hard he drew blood as he fought to ignore the pain blaring out from his shoulder and almost every other part of his body. As he did so, he could feel warm blood cascading down his shoulder and onto the glass-covered floor. Yet, even so, all he could do was grit his teeth as he tightly cradled his arm and continued to escape.
No sooner had he started towards the right, where the back entrance and adjacent building he had hidden behind stood, than the mob began to follow. They poured through the shattered window in hot pursuit, like wolves smelling blood, and once again Spencer found himself the target of a barrage of bullets. Luckily, whether due to the darkness or simply poor aim, none of the shots managed to land before he finally managed to slip around a corner and out of sight.
It was then that Spencer did the only thing he could think of–he ran. He ran and he ran and he ran, never stopping, knowing that despite finally escaping the warehouse, he was still in just as much danger as before. After all, he was still located deep within their territory. All he'd managed to gain was a sliver of breathing room, something he quickly used to his advantage. In an effort to lose his pursuers, Spencer started to sprint in a zig-zag formation, twisting and turning through the many buildings and streets that he passed. Unfortunately, this proved to be a far harder task than he had originally thought.